


the beauty of truth

by PinkGerberDaisies



Series: misconstrued romance [2]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emma Approved AU, Emma Jane Austen AU, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 82,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGerberDaisies/pseuds/PinkGerberDaisies
Summary: Scott Moir is Tessa Virtue's business partner, ex-dance partner, and lifelong best friend. He's also madly in love with her.A retelling of "every kind of mischief" from Scott's point of view.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> “My Emma, does not every thing serve to prove more and more the beauty of truth and sincerity in all our dealings with each other?”   
> – Emma, Jane Austen

**call me irresponsible**

 

It’s a typical breezy April afternoon in London, the sun covered by grey clouds lingering from that morning’s rain storm, and Scott breathes in the crisp, fresh air as he digs a granola bar out of his backpack and leans up against the sycamore tree outside of the dance studio - the sweat still cooling on his body and helping ward off the springtime chill.

His mom should be here any minute to pick him and Tess up from practice, and he hopes she arrives before it starts raining again. In typical Scott fashion, he’d forgotten his jacket today and he could really do without the lecture that would surely accompany drenching his new costume. A downpour would definitely ruin the velvet lines criss-crossing his shirt and earn him a solid reprimand from Tess, his mom, and Suzanne - in that order.

If the weather holds and she’s a little late though, he won’t mind. There’s a Catholic school across the street that usually gets out around this time, and Scott enjoys the opportunity to see all the girls his age in their white button-down shirts and plaid skirts smiling and giggling and, if he’s lucky, waving at him or coming over to say hi. He's found that being a good dancer tends to impress girls, and that more than makes up for the teasing he endures from his brothers.

Instead of cute girls though, a group of boys he knows all too well appears in the corner of his eye, and he groans loudly. They’re sauntering down the street with overdone swagger and their baggie jeans slung low around their hips, wearing hoodies at least a full size too big for them – obviously trying to appear older and cooler than they are – and their hockey bags tossed over their shoulders. Probably coming from the rink that's just a few blocks away. 

The sight of them makes Scott stand up a little straighter, torn between going back inside or facing whatever insults they’re going to hurl at him today. They always manage to throw one or too barbs his direction whenever they cross paths, but today it’ll probably be especially bad because he and Tess had been working through a full costume rehearsal and he’d forgotten a change of clothes. Which means he’s still wearing his semi-sheer long-sleeved frilly black shirt with a V so deep it shows off all the chest hair he can’t grow. Prime mocking material for teenage boys.

If only Tess was out here waiting with him, then he wouldn’t be so bothered, but she’s always much more prepared than he is and is currently busy somewhere inside peeling off her skin-tight red dress and trading it for a more normal outfit. The dress is a new one that she'd worn for the first time today, and it shows off way more of her body than Scott’s entirely comfortable with. 

(It’s hard not to have a certain _reaction_ when he’s supposed to have his hands all over that body for hours each day.)

The thing is, in another life, one where Scott didn’t meet a pretty seven year old girl at a dance class he’d been forced to take and been swept up into a life of ballroom competitions he’d never expected, he would have been one of those guys. He’s always loved hockey (his Maple Leaf sheets at home are a testament to that), and he plays with his buddies in Ilderton whenever he gets the chance. But he _did_ meet that little girl and he _did_ choose dance shoes over hockey skates, and those guys walking towards him now, instead of being his friends, drive him crazy.

_Inside it is_ , Scott decides, pushing off of the tree and heading for the safety of the studio. He fully intends to slip in through the black and white double-doors without being seen and avoid another confrontation (last time had almost ended in an altercation after one of the boys called him Mini Moir), but it’s too late.

"Hey, Moir, you get that shirt at your grandma’s house?” One of the guys, the tallest and obvious ringleader, calls out with a sneer, and Scott tugs the gaping V of his shirt closed as tightly as he can and turns around to face them.

He’s seventeen and a half years old, but next to these guys he looks twelve and he hates it. His brothers were late bloomers too, or so his mother keeps telling him, but it’s not very reassuring in the face of taunts like this.

“What are you doing here, McTavish?” He adopts a nonchalant attitude, hoping to appear unaffected by their presence and insults. He’s a teenage boy who does ballroom dance, he’s used to being made fun of, he can handle this.

“I’m here to pick up your hot little partner for our date.” The boy grins, his intentions clearly less than pure, and Scott’s stomach lurches at the thought of this meathead spending any time alone with Tess. Comments about himself he can deal with, but he hadn't anticipated anything being said about Tessa. 

“Funny. She’s never mentioned you. She probably forgot all about it. Guess you’re just not that memorable.” It’s easier to throw insults than evaluate why Tessa wouldn’t have told him about her date. Is she hiding something from him? Does she think he won't approve? They tell each other everything, and he’d want to know if she was seeing someone.

Well, he’d probably want to know, even though the idea of her with other boys makes his skin crawl for some reason that he doesn’t care to examine too closely. It probably just bothers him because she’s his partner and he’s always been told that he needs to look out for her.

"Oh believe me, she remembers,” McTavish smirks lasciviously and his buddies clap him on the back and wolf whistle, and Scott scowls.

Now that he thinks about it, Tessa had told him a few days ago over the phone about a new guy who was interested in her, but the Leafs had been playing the Bruins and Scott had been a little too distracted by the TV to pay attention to the details of her new crush. Her dreamy, girlish infatuations tend to come and go pretty quickly, so he hadn’t thought it mattered. Now, however, he wishes he’d been taking notes.

It’s not that he’s surprised McTavish is interested in her. He knows Tessa is beautiful - of course he does. He’d noticed her gorgeous green eyes and adorable freckles pretty much the moment he met her, and she’s only gotten prettier with age. He’d just hoped to have a few more years before other guys started noticing too. Especially guys like McTavish who he definitely would have warned her to stay away from.

Even though she would be the first to remind him that she’s perfectly capable of making her own choices, he still hates hearing her talked about like that – even only through vague implications. Like she’s just another piece of ass. Tessa deserves flowers and romance and respect, not some horny jock without two brain cells to rub together who couldn’t tell a polka from a foxtrot.   

“How could she remember what’s too small to even notice? Tell me, when you take steroids are the ‘nads the first or last thing to shrink? After the brain, of course.”

Scott watches with satisfaction as McTavish’s grin disappears immediately and he fixes him with a death glare, snarling and cracking his knuckles in a way that Scott tries not to find intimidating, “Are you insulting me, Moir?”

“I’m impressed you noticed. Guess your brain isn’t completely gone yet. Probably can’t say the same for your balls, though.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my balls, and they’re gonna be real familiar with your partner’s face by the end of the night.”

That’s an image Scott could have lived his entire life without, and he’s only half-pretending when he starts to gag. “Okay first, that’s super gross and seriously messed up, and second, you can’t talk about her like that.”

_Can’t_ here meaning Scott will absolutely fucking punch him if he does. He’s not sure why, given that he hears plenty of crude things said about girls all day at school and is totally capable of ignoring it, but there’s something about it being _Tessa_ that makes it particularly unacceptable and has him closing his hands into fists.

“Jealous?” McTavish asks with a curl of the lip, and Scott snorts to cover up the way that single word hits a little closer to home than he’d care to examine.

"Of what?”

“That I’ve had my hands on those perky little tits and you haven’t and never will? Jealous that Tessa’s gonna give up the rest of it tonight? Jealous that you’re too scrawny for any girl to even look at you twice, let alone let you touch?”

The idea of Tessa and hands and tits all wrapped up together in one thought is almost more than Scott can handle. Both because he hates hearing the words coming out of another guy’s mouth, and because those are things he’s been aggressively trying _not_ to think about ever since Tessa started developing said tits.

“Fuck off, McTavish. Like Tess would ever sleep with someone as ugly as you. She has _taste_.”

Honestly, he has no idea what Tessa’s taste in boys is other than “tall” (he’d overheard her say that to Jordan once and yes, it had hurt his feelings, even if he’d never admit it out loud to anyone), but he cannot picture her doing anything with some sandy-haired wannabe athlete like McTavish.

"She’ll be tasting something all right,” McTavish makes a jerking motion with his hand in front of his pelvis, for his benefit as well as those of his leering buddies, and that’s when Scott fist connects with his face.

Well, almost.

McTavish dodges the swing easily and retaliates before Scott can process what is happening – sucker punching him right in the gut before hitting him with a right hook in the mouth.

Scott goes down. Hard. And amid all the jeering he hears a scream.

Tessa’s suddenly there where she wasn’t a moment ago, kneeling by his side in a panic, her hands hovering over his body like she’s not sure where to touch him. “Oh my god, Scott! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance? Do you have a concussion? Do –“

“He’s fine. Moir’s just a prissy little retard in ballet shoes.” McTavish cuts her off with a dismissive wave of his hand that turns into flipping the bird at Scott, who returns the gesture whole-heartedly, but Tessa jumps back to her feet and marches over to him like a woman on a mission. Her cheeks are a flaming shade of red and her eyes are as bright as emeralds – rage radiating off her small frame in waves that would scare even grown men – and Scott pushes himself up to a sitting position to watch the display.

“First of all, _Timothy_ ,” She jabs McTavish forcefully in the chest, forcing him to take a step backwards, “We don’t use that word anymore. It’s offensive and rude and you’d better remove it from your vocabulary _right now!_ Second, I’ve met your mother and I know she didn’t raise you to hit people. She’s going to be so ashamed of you when I tell her what you’ve done. Third, Scott is an amazing person and my best friend and ten times the dancer and athlete you could ever hope to be! Consider our date officially cancelled. Forever!”

“Tessa –“ McTavish reaches out for her, his voice whiny and cajoling, but Tessa shoves his hand away, making a disgusted noise in the back of her throat.

“As if I could ever go out with anybody who was rude to Scott. Get lost.” She spins around without another glance at any of the boys as they slump away and helps Scott to his feet, and he can do nothing but stare at her in open wonder as he takes her outstretched hand. She never ceases to amaze him.

“That was a dumb thing you did.” She pulls a make-up wipe from her bag and starts dabbing at the blood trickling from his split lip, her touch so much gentler than his own would be, and he leans into it almost unconsciously. “He’s like twice your size.”

“I know,” Scott grumbles, but there’s no heat behind it, and he quirks the corner of his lip up in a half-smile that slightly tugs at the injury she’s currently trying to mend, “But you didn’t hear what he was saying about you.”

“I heard the end of it,” She admits softly, her hand mostly stroking his cheek now, rather than cleaning up blood, but he doesn’t move to stop her. It feels nice and he likes being the subject of her care and attention. “Thank you for defending me, even though it was dumb and almost got you killed.”

“Killed?” Scott laughs, “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think, kiddo?”

“Well I don’t know! All I saw was a bunch of guys standing over you and I had images of them surrounding you and kicking you to death or something running through my brain. I panicked. You can't die one week before competition!”

"McTavish is a jackass, but he’s not a murderer,” Scott snorts and Tessa glares at him, but it doesn’t have the same effect as it would have earlier on the dance floor - when her nut brown hair was slicked back into a severe bun and her show make-up made her look older and more dramatic. Now she’s brushed it out and let her curls fall freely down over the shoulders of her pink sweater and wiped off all the make-up, and she looks every bit the almost-sixteen year old girl that she is.

He likes all of Tessa’s looks, dark seductress to jazzy 50s star to folk dancer, but this one is his favorite. When she’s just completely herself, even if she's frowning at him.

"You’re pretty,” He sighs, giving voice to his thoughts, and her mouth falls open as her eyes go as round as saucers and shoot up to find his, “- Awesome!” He stutters, rushing to cover himself, “Pretty awesome. Thank you for defending me, too.”  

She stares at him like he’s a puzzle she's trying to figure out, but he keeps his face neutral and is grateful for the moment she relaxes and decides to let it go. “You’re welcome.”

It’s not the first time he’s thought that about her, or the first time they’ve shared a _moment_ in the last year. Ever since Suzanne decided they were ready for more adult dance moves and Scott had to learn fast how not to pop a boner while doing the tango (or rumba, or salsa, or waltz, or pretty much every single dance there is), he’s been struggling with whatever these burgeoning feelings for her are. He keeps telling himself it’s just a result of so much close proximity, but sometimes she looks at him and…

"You weren’t really going to sleep with him, were you?” The words are out of Scott’s mouth before he can stop them, and he cringes at how loud and blunt they sound. He hadn’t meant to ask her about it – would really prefer to forget the whole conversation with McTavish completely – but the idea of her with him is so _wrong_. He can’t bear the thought that it might have almost happened.

“That’s not really any of your business,” Tessa finally says after a long pause, a blush spreading high on her cheekbones, and he expects it to be followed by a stern rebuke. Possibly also a lecture about feminism and _her body, her choice._ But instead she rolls her eyes and gives him a smile that can only be described as a mix between exasperated and affectionate, “But no, I wasn’t. I'm not ready for anything like that yet.”

He sighs with more relief than he knows he has any right to feel and finds her hand with his, winding their fingers together like it’s second nature, “Good.”

“Why is that good?” She cocks her head expectantly, and Scott’s blood runs cold.

_Shit._

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud either, but apparently today is a day full of mistakes. Now he’s got to find a way to explain himself without giving away the fact that the reason it's good she wasn't going to sleep with him is that McTavish was right. He’s _jealous._

“Because McTavish is a jerk, and he's too old for you, and you deserve better.” He's the same age as Scott, actually, but he doesn't feel the need to point that out and apparently neither does Tessa. 

“I do?” Tessa’s smiling now, that smile she reserves only for him, and her eyes flit across his face in a way that has him stammering and trying not to mirror her blush. 

“Of course you do. You’re amazing, T. The best partner, a fantastic dancer, an amazing friend, not to mention the fact that you’re beautiful. I mean, you’re obviously a ten and he’s like, a six at best. You can do way better than -”

“You think I’m beautiful?” She cuts him off, her smile turning into a full-blown grin, and Scott turns beet red.

“I…You... I mean... Look, you know you’re gorgeous, all right? Any guy would be lucky to date you, so don’t waste your time on that shithead.” He shrugs and acts like it’s nothing, hoping she doesn’t notice how sweaty his palms have gotten.

“Thanks, Scott.” She lets her head fall onto his shoulder, tucking herself into his side, and Scott tries and fails not to notice the little tingles that shoot down his arm from the gentle contact. It doesn’t seem to matter how much or in what ways they touch each other while on the dance floor, he still feels affected by it every time. Suzanne keeps promising him that it will fade, that someday her touch will be no different than his own, but he seriously doubts it. It'll always be special to him, and he's not sure he wants it any other way, even if it might make his life as her dance partner a little easier. 

How could he not be affected by her? She _is_ beautiful and kind and generous and all of the other things he’d told her. Not to mention the way she's fearless when defending him. She’s probably the most perfect girl he’s ever met, even if she does steal his French fries and have a tendency to get neurotic about their training schedules and would rather watch Audrey Hepburn movies than _Bloodsport_. Having her pressed against his side, her fingers laced with his, feels good. It feels right. And… And… And…

And _holy shit_ he might be in love with her.

His body freezes with the realization and he tenses up, prompting Tessa to look up at him with an arched eyebrow and a wordless question written on her face, but Scott ignores her.

He’s in love with Tessa.

Somewhere in between the early mornings and long afternoons sweating to the same dance songs, BBQs at his or her house, water fights, and countless movie nights, his affection for his best friend had blossomed into something more without him even noticing, and somehow he knows it’s not just a temporary crush. Maybe he’s not an adult quite yet, but he’s liked plenty of girls before and he can tell the difference. This is something… _big_ _._

And he has no idea what to do about it.

“Are you okay?” She squeezes his hand to bring his attention back to her (as if it ever left) and Scott swallows audibly.

“Yep!” His voice cracks. Fucking _cracks_. (Why can't the stupid thing drop already so he can sound his age?) And he winces and avoids looking at her. If he does she’ll be able to read his face, and he can’t risk that right now.

A secret like this could wreck their friendship if he isn’t careful. She can’t know about his feelings until he’s absolutely sure of them, and sure of hers in return, otherwise it might get awkward and awkwardness would be a death sentence in their partnership. Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t bear it if she stopped holding his hand or didn’t feel comfortable giving him random hugs or cuddling up under a shared blanket in his parent’s basement.

She’s too important to him to risk everything for a quick make-out session in the back of his parent’s mini-van. (Even if that fleeting thought has him growing hard in his pants – a problem that forces him to start thinking about disgusting things to prevent from becoming noticeable. The last thing he needs is an erection right now.)

Besides, what are the chances he’s found the love of his life already? They're both practically still kids and his feelings will probably change as they grow older. And she might not ever develop feelings for him at all. She certainly doesn't have feelings for him now if she's out here saying yes to guys like McTavish and dreaming about tall men. He's seen Tessa around boys she's crushing on - the way she blushes and giggles and twirls her hair - and she's never done that around him. Just last week she'd given him a noogie for stealing the remote, that doesn't scream  _love_. 

“ _Scott_ ,” Tessa tries again, shaking him a little to force him out of his stupor, and his eyes drop to her mouth as he licks his lips, trying to formulate some sort of response.

A loud horn honks nearby and he jumps away from her - saved by the arrival of that same beige mini-van he'd been fantasizing about accompanied by his mother’s worried cry, “Scott! What happened to your face?!”

As they climb into the car he brushes off his mom's concerns with an excuse about misjudging a spin and getting elbowed by another student, and Tessa starts rambling about what they learned in practice to distract Alma from asking further questions about the bruise forming on his chin. 

While she talks Scott watches her and silently makes a decision. He's going to take his newly discovered love for her and lock it up in a box deep inside himself so that it can't mess anything up. They've got a real shot at this ballroom thing, maybe even a chance to win the world championships one day, and that could disappear if she finds out about his one-sided feelings. 

_Besides,_ Scott thinks as Tessa leans over and starts tending to his lip again, his traitorous heart doing back flips inside his chest at her soft touch,  _this probably won't last. I'll forget all about it tomorrow and everything will go back to normal_. 

They're good at being best friends and partners, and as long as that never changes, he'll be happy.

****


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott pushes Tessa to get an assistant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter coincides with chapters 1 & 2 of Every Kind of Mischief

** shorthanded **

 

Scott likes technical things. The way the right step in a dance sequence moves seamlessly into the next or how the right formula done correctly prompts perfect answers every time. Things that can be done with precision. He prides himself on his mastery of technical skills in everything he does – from work to dance to even hockey – and loves combining those skills with his creative side and creating something artistic and beautiful.

(Have you ever seen a player make a last minute shot at the buzzer to win the game? Hockey can be every bit as beautiful as a waltz.)

But there’s no room for artistry in compiling spreadsheets, and he’d used up all his technical skills creating the formula half an hour ago that he’s been plugging into boxes over and over, and now he’s just bored. His brain wilting without any proper stimulation.

He was like this in school, too. Tessa used to tease him that they were two sides of the same coin - him restless during the day, and her restless during the night – and she’s not wrong. As soon as his brain isn’t being challenged it wanders off, looking for something new, and he finds his thoughts heading in the direction of the break room.

Tessa hasn’t come into work yet, so maybe he can slip away for a coffee break before she arrives and catches him dawdling. Not that she’d get mad if he wasn’t at his desk, but he likes her to think he’s pulling his weight as her business partner. After all, she’d trusted him two years ago when they started this mad venture to keep them afloat, and he refuses to let her down.

Rubbing his eyes, Scott scoots away from his desk and moves to stand up, but just then, as if summoned by his thoughts, Tessa comes flying into his office in a whirlwind waving a magazine high above her head and grinning so wide he’s sure it must be hurting her cheeks.

“Scott! Scott! Scott! It’s out!” She hops up onto his desk, completely disregarding the stacks of papers he’d had neatly organized there, and thrusts the shiny cover in front of his face.

He barely has time to read the words  _Women With Vision_ before she’s flipping it open and beginning to read out loud.

“Beautiful, clever, and brilliant. There are many intriguing female entrepreneurs in the love and lifestyle community, but none are more dynamic or have more potential than young Miss Tessa Virtue.”

While she reads he wheels his chair back towards his computer and continues working, giving up on the idea of coffee for the present. She’s definitely going to want to read him this whole article and he might as well get a few more rows on the spreadsheet done while she does.

“Isn’t that a fabulous beginning?” She’s practically bouncing with energy, so full of exuberance that she’s glowing, and Scott bites his lip to keep from grinning at the way her foot keeps hitting him with each bounce. She probably doesn’t even know she’s doing it.

“It’s great, Virtch, but could you stop kicking my chair?” He can’t resist teasing her a little, even if he does agree with the article’s assessment of her. She is definitely all of those things, as well as dorky, ridiculous, silly, and full of an infectious joy that he’s never been able to build up an immunity to. 

"Oh, sorry,” Tessa grimaces and tucks the offending leg up under her knee, leaving the other one to hang, and Scott looks up at her and finally allows himself to smile so that she knows he isn’t really upset.

“No worries. You can keep reading, T, I know you want to.” In times like these, when she’s excited and passionate and fired up, it’s better to just let Tessa run wild. Sometimes she gets all wound up and can’t relax until she finds an outlet, like a music box that has to be allowed to play itself out. He kind of loves that about her.

“Miss Virtue runs the lifestyle and matchmaking division of the developing Virtuous Lifestyle Group. When asked about what her job entails, Miss Virtue said, ‘In nine words? I make your life better, and I never fail.’”

“Ha!” Scott can’t resist the outburst, and it earns him a swift kick in the shin and a glare. “Ow, T, what was that for?” He rubs his leg with an exaggerated pout, and Tessa reaches out and jabs his lower lip back into place with no remorse.

She can’t possibly be serious though. That’s such an outlandish claim to make, and it’s totally setting them up for the exact thing she’d said would never happen: failure. Like promising your mother when you’re fourteen that there’s no way you’re going to get hurt in a hockey game the day before a big dance competition and then spraining your ankle.

(Not that that'd happened to him, of course.)

“You laughed at me!”

“Well that’s kind of a big claim, don’t you think? _Never_ fail? That’s only going to set people up for disappointment.” He knows it’s the wrong thing to say the second he says it, and when Tessa folds her arms over her chest and turns away from him it only confirms that he's made her upset. A pang of guilt lances through his chest at the way she visibly deflates. 

“Wow, Scott, it’s like you have no faith in me or my abilities at all.”

Nothing could be farther than the truth, and even though she refuses to look at him (even when he grabs her knee and forcibly tries to capture her attention), Scott tells her earnestly, “I _do_ have faith in you, kiddo, but after two years we’re still the newest branch in your mother’s company and we need to tread carefully if we’re going to avoid being cut off the tree, as they say.”

“We’re not going to be cut off. I have a solid nineteen out of nineteen success rate!” She turns back to face him with another glare, and Scott presses his lips together to keep from scoffing. Apparently she's forgotten that he works here, too, and nineteen out of nineteen seems just a bit high.

“How do you figure?” His voice is laced with sarcasm as he arches his eyebrow at her, and Tessa holds up her fingers and starts forcefully reciting a list of all the couples they’ve known over the years.

A few of them are valid answers, he’ll grant her, but most of them only make him laugh privately to himself that she counts them as personal victories. Especially when she mentions Meryl and Fedor.

“Setting up your ex-boyfriend on a date with your sort-of friend so that he’ll stop calling you is hardly what I would call a business success.”

Not that Scott’s upset she did that. He’d hated Fedor on principle. He was the son of a rival dance coach and considered himself God’s gift to ballroom and he always called Scott _Scottie,_ even though he knew he hated it. There’s also the tiny fact that Scott had walked in on Fedor on top of Tessa once, both of them in a state of undress that gave him major PTSD for weeks afterwards, and that pretty much meant Scott wanted him dead from that day forward.

Okay, maybe dead is a bit extreme, but Scott definitely didn't shed any tears when Tessa told him they'd broken up. 

“They’re engaged, aren’t they?” Tessa points out with a smirk, and Scott sighs and shakes his head. It’s true, they are, so he supposes she has a point there.

He lets her keep listing names with relatively little argument until she mentions his brother and her sister. At that point Scott leans back in his chair and gives her his full attention – intending to fight her on that and ignoring the way she’s beaming at him. “Okay, that one I have to argue. You did not set up our siblings.”

He remembers the weeks of agonizing he’d had to endure with Charlie. The back and forth, his brother’s panic over whether or not Jordan would say yes to dinner and a movie, or if that was too ordinary for such an extraordinary woman. The late night phone calls and requests for advice. All the while having to hide his jealousy that a Moir was pursuing a Virtue and it wasn’t _him._

The injustices of the universe are many, but that had felt like the cruelest twist of all.

“Yes I absolutely did!” Tessa insists, but Scott isn't going to back down.

“Charlie is the one who asked out Jordan. It was his idea!”

“You think they would have gotten together without my influence?”

“They got together because they wanted to, that’s it. He liked her, she liked him, end of story,” Scott states emphatically. He did not waste a lifetime of knowledge about the Virtue girls to help his _brother_ find love instead of him, only for Tessa to claim victory for herself. The problem is, he can’t admit he did all that because then she might question his motivations and why he'd kept his interference secret from her.

On the outside they might seem pure, but he knows the real reason is that part of him thought if Charlie and Jordan got married, he’d get to have Tessa in his life forever - even if he wasn’t in the way he really wanted.

But she doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh please. When Charlie asked her on a date who do you think she called and talked to for over an hour about the pros and cons of dating someone she’d known practically her whole life? Jordan needed a little nudge here and there and now look – they’re married. Thanks, in no small part, to me.”

Scott can hear the _so ha!_ at the end of her sentence without her having to say it, and he scowls. It's no use arguing with her, but he doesn't intend to admit defeat either. 

She keeps grinning at him, totally unperturbed by the silent treatment he’s giving her, and Scott’s resolve begins to weaken in a matter of minutes. He never could stay mad at her for very long.

“You’re the worst,” He finally grumbles after a few moments, grabbing her swinging leg and tickling her behind the knee where he knows she’s sensitive.

It works and a surprised laugh bubbles up out of her mouth as Tessa reacts to the sudden onslaught, her leg jerking forward by instinct and nearly kicking him again.

“Don’t do that!” It’s half a giggle, half a command, and Scott lets her swat his hand away. The best part of knowing someone for nearly twenty years is that he knows all of her ticklish spots and can use them to get his way, which he does often. Sometimes it's his only defense against her usually well-thought out and researched arguments. 

“Then don’t make false claims.”

“It’s not false!” She says again, even more resolutely this time, and Scott leans forward with mocking interest as she starts listing off more of her supposed successes with increased vehemence, pausing only to express excitement over the engagement of their mutual friends, Alex and Midori.

He is genuinely happy for their friends, even if it only adds to Tessa’s gloating. Midori had been Tessa’s roommate in college and they’d all become close friends during their years there, and he hangs out fairly regularly with Alex at the bar and the gym and could not think more highly of the guy. They’re a perfect match, even if he won’t give Tessa the satisfaction of saying that out loud right now.

He’s happy, that is, until Tessa mentions that she’ll be the one planning their wedding.

“Tess,” His smile fades into a frown, “You have five other projects on your desk right now, plus the individual one-time consultations we talked about, the articles you need to write for your mother’s magazine, not to mention all the paperwork –“

“I hate paperwork. I thought you handled all of that?” Tessa pouts and Scott mimics her action from earlier by reaching out and pushing her bottom lip back into place, trying not to linger on how soft it is and wondering if she's wearing vanilla or cherry lip balm today.

“I can’t handle everything, T,” Scott chuckles, allowing himself the small liberty of briefly caressing her chin - just the barest hint of a touch - before dropping his hand, “But if you had an assistant like I’ve been telling you to get for months, you wouldn’t have to handle it either.”

She’s already so busy, he worries about her overworking herself and not getting enough rest. Tessa has a tendency to take on as many projects as she possibly can, and then adding two or three more on top of that just for fun. It’s not sustainable. An assistant would be life-changing and probably life-s _aving_. For both of them.

“But I like that it’s just the two of us here. The dream team, conquering the world! We’ve always been a dynamic duo.”

Scott preens at that. He loves that it's just the two of them, too, and in a perfect world they would stay that way, it’s just that he’s not sure they can last without help much longer. “This workload is gonna bust _my_ dynamic duo if we don’t get some help.” He winces dramatically for comedic effect, and grins in satisfaction when Tessa laughs.

(Is there a more beautiful sound in the world? He doesn’t think so, and he heard Mike Babcock say his name once, so that’s saying something.)

“Ugh, fine, fine.” She hops off his desk and Scott immediately feels a ridiculous wave of disappointment that she isn’t going to stay there all day. “You win. I wouldn’t want you to bust your balls. Your ex did enough of that.”

He groans as loudly as possible and pushes her away. Did he say he was disappointed? As far as he’s concerned she can’t leave fast enough. “Would you stop bringing her up? Let it go.”

“I don’t know why you won’t just let me set you up –“

Scott shoots up out of his chair and starts physically pushing her towards the door, and although she tries to resist, her strength is no match for his – especially when she’s nearly doubled-over with laughter at his look of abject horror.

“Bye, Tess!” Scott manhandles her until she’s standing in the hallway and with a jaunty, sarcastic little wave he shuts his door in her face.

Ever since they started this matchmaking business, she’s gotten it into her head that she needs to find someone for him to date, even though he adamantly refuses her offer every time. Her excuse is that it doesn’t look good for them both to be single when they’re running a _matchmaking_ business, and unfortunately his suggestion that they should just date each other had gone right over her head.

He doesn’t mind being single though (she’d been all too right about his last girlfriend, who they had dubbed "The Nightmare"), and quite frankly, he’s done trying to find replacements for Tessa.

She is it for him. His standard for brains, humor, kindness, beauty, and everything else. He’d tried to fight it over the last decade or so, tried to replicate one tenth of what he feels for her with other women, but all to no avail. She’s the one he wants, and lately he’s been thinking she might be coming around to the idea of wanting him too. So why bother with anyone else?

The problem is, he can’t tell what behaviors are just Tessa being Tessa, and what might be _more_. He’s always appreciated their lack of physical boundaries, but it makes things a hell of a lot more confusing.

Just last week she told him she was considering taking pole dancing classes because that was something they most definitely hadn’t learned from Suzanne, and wanted to know whether or not he thought she should. With any other girl, that could be construed as coming onto him, but when he’d gulped and answered, "Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea" ( _and oh god would she let him watch)_ , she’d just grinned and booked the class and changed topics.

So yeah, she’s a little confusing, and he has no idea what to do about it. 

But things are good right now,  _incredibly_ good, so he can be patient for a little while longer. There's no rush.

Shaking his head, Scott sits back down and refocuses on the Excel document - determined to stop thinking anymore thoughts about his business partner and how much he’d really like to kiss her. Maybe if he can finish before lunch they can sneak out for a bite to eat at The Bag Lady.

If he squints, it could almost be a date.

 

****

 

It takes some cajoling and a fair amount of bargaining, but in the end, convincing Tessa to hire an assistant had been easier than he’d expected. It had also been much more entertaining than he could have ever anticipated.

Witnessing the interview process had been like watching a comedy of errors, from the girl who had been unashamedly having an affair with her last boss to the girl who adamantly didn’t believe in love to the boy who had been so blatantly smitten with Tessa, he'd practically fallen at her feet. 

Not that he can blame the boy for trying. Even if giving Tessa a bottle of scotch hadn’t worked out exactly as he’d hoped, it was still a valiant effort.

Scott’s glad she ended up picking Kaetlyn Osmond. From what he saw of her yesterday, though brief, she’d seemed like a capable and well-qualified young woman and he hopes she’ll fit in well with their office dynamic. Tessa could use at least one co-worker who isn’t harboring feelings for someone in the office to add a sense of normalcy.

At that moment Tessa comes waltzing into the office without warning, her assistant following closely behind, and Scott quickly starts typing furiously away at his keyboard - hoping his thoughts aren't totally obvious. 

“Sure, T, just come on in,” He says sarcastically without looking up from his computer. Why he ever agreed to her open door policy he’ll never know. Perhaps if she’d mentioned she’d use it liberally to invade his space, he wouldn’t have said yes when she suggested it.

(Oh, who is he kidding, Tessa could walk into his apartment unannounced at three in the morning and he’d be fine with it.)

“I thought we agreed our doors should always be open for each other,” Tessa shoots back, mirroring his thoughts, and Scott plays along – groaning over-dramatically and sagging backwards in his chair.

“I knew I’d regret that rule someday.” 

Kaetlyn laughs and Scott mentally pats himself on the back for that. She'd looked so nervous and now she's starting to relax, which is important if she's going to work here. He wants her to feel comfortable around both of them. 

“Kaetlyn, this is Scott,” Tessa gestures towards him, ignoring his theatrics, “He handles the boring numbers side of things at the company.”

“I think you mean the _important_ side of things, but sure,” He corrects her as he stands up and walks over to them, reaching out and shaking Kaetlyn’s hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“How long have you two been working together?” Kaetlyn asks and Scott smiles fondly at Tessa, nudging her arm with his elbow and trying not to laugh when her elbow digs back. He's tempted to start an elbow war like he would have yesterday when they were alone, but he should probably show  _some_ sense of decorum on Kaetlyn's first day.

“Two years here, but we’ve known each other since we were children, and Tessa’s sister is married to my brother.”

“Oh,” Kaetlyn nods with an understanding smile, her eyes lighting up like something just clicked inside her head, “So you’re kind of like siblings then.”

 _Siblings?_ Sure, if he wanted to go to prison for incestuous thoughts. They’re definitely like family to one another, but brother and sister is just about the farthest thing possible from what they are. At least for him.

Tessa makes a bad attempt at covering up a snort with a cough, and Scott takes that as confirmation that she doesn’t see them that way either and won’t be offended if he corrects Kaetlyn’s assumption. Thank god. 

“Uh… no,” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, “We’re just best friends.”

“I would never do the kinds of things I do with Scott with my brothers,” Tessa jokes, and both Scott and Kaetlyn whip their heads around to stare at her.

Did she seriously just say that? Out loud? Does she know what it _sounded_ like?

Judging by the blush spreading rapidly across her face, she does, and Scott watches with delight as she splutters out an explanation, “I mean, because we used to dance competitively. It would have been pretty awkward to do the tango with Kevin or Casey. Not because we do anything else.”

Oh, he is _so_ going to tease her in a hundred and one different ways for this. What she’d said was full of innuendo and her hasty attempt to fix it hadn’t really helped. He can tell by the way Kaetlyn is still glancing back and forth between them with a furrowed brow that she has her suspicions, and Tessa avoiding his gaze like she has something to hide isn’t helping.

 _Does she have something to hide? Have you thought about me, Virtch?_ If their tangos had been completely platonic, why wouldn't she feel comfortable doing them with her brothers?Her statement would imply there's something sexual about them, and that sends a thrill down his spine. 

He wants to ask her about it so badly, wants to know if she thinks about him half as much as he thinks about her, if she lays awake at night and  _wonders,_ but he also doesn’t want to push her – especially not in front of her new employee – so he keeps his mouth shut. Even though that question is definitely going to haunt him.

Someone out in the foyer shouts hello and relief floods Tessa’s face. “We should go see who that is. Come on, Kaetlyn.”

Tessa practically power walks out of there to escape, and Scott sits back down at his desk, but he can’t concentrate on his work. The smug grin won’t leave his face and all he can hear is Tessa’s voice saying _anything else_. The implications there, that she knows something _else_ could be possible between them, is enough to boost his spirits for the rest of the week.

Any step forward is a good one, however small it may appear.

He also won’t deny that he’s a little smug that she and Kaetlyn appear to be getting along so well. It’s rare that anybody one-ups Tessa Virtue, so whenever it happens he has to savor the moment.

Which is why the second he hears her heels clicking on the wooden floor of the hallway as she walks past his office, he calls out, “I told you so!”

The sound of her footsteps stops, probably right as she was about to open her own office door, and then picks up again as she marches back into his office and walks right up to his desk – her green eyes sparking and her hand on her hip like the beginning of every sexy office fantasy he’s ever had.

_Not helpful, Moir._

“Excuse me?” She arches her eyebrow at him, but Scott merely leans back in his chair and folds his arms behind his head. She can’t scare him.

“I told you to hire an assistant and I was right. She’s great! Admit this was a good idea.”

Tessa folds her arms over her chest in defiance, pushing her breasts together in a way that Scott resolutely (mostly) keeps himself from noticing. “I’ll admit that having some extra help around here will probably be a good thing.”

Oh, so she’s going to be like that then, is she? Well, he’ll just have to force it out of her.

“And…” He prods, tilting his head and biting his cheek to keep his smirk from spreading. Greatly enjoying the way she flushes and stands up a little straighter, full of stubborn pride. 

“And Kaetlyn seems really nice,” Tessa adds, pressing her lips shut tight and raising her eyebrows as if to ask _what more do you want_ when Scott gestures for her to continue.

“And…”

“And…”

Her resolve is weakening, he can tell, and he knows that she knows he isn’t going to let this go. It’s far too much fun to tease her.

“Fine,” She concedes with a heavy sigh, “You were right.”

“Ha!” Scott pumps his fist in the air and then holds his hand up for a high five that Tessa half-heartedly returns. “Thank you.”

“Are you going to hold this over my head forever?”

“Only until I’m right about the next thing,” Scott grins and Tessa shakes her head, but he can tell she’s more amused than annoyed. The number of times she's told him "I told you so" still greatly outweighs his, so he doesn't feel too bad. 

“Haven’t you learned by now that when you think you’re right, and I think I’m right, usually I’m the one who’s right?”

“Actually, yes,” He admits with a laugh. The key word here is _usually_ though, and right now he’s going to bask in his small victory. “Which is why I savor these moments with such relish.”

“Well don’t get used to it, it won’t happen again.” She spins around and heads out of his office with purpose, but he knows what she’s doing. Tessa loves having the last word in their verbal sparring matches, always has, and he can’t resist calling out after her.

“We’ll see about that!”

Her perfectly manicured hand pops back out from around the corner just long enough to flip him off, and Scott laughs at her inability to let things be, even if it means resorting to rude hand gestures.

Smiling to himself, he heads down the hall intending to grab a snack from the break room, but he pauses in the foyer when he sees a young man in an easily recognizable I.T. polo shirt working at Kaetlyn’s desk – his messenger bag with a Maple Leafs patch he must have attached himself slumped at the base of the chair.

“Trennt!” Scott greets him with a clap on the shoulder, “It’s been a while since you were poking around our computers. How are you?” He doesn’t know him well, but they’ve chatted a few times about sports and Scott genuinely likes the guy. 

“Oh hey, Mr. Moir. I’m good. How’s that software upgrade been working for you?” His tone is oddly formal and rushed, and a quick glance at Kaetlyn has Scott growing suspicious. If he had to guess, he’d say Trennt wants to make a good impression on the doe-eyed girl sitting next to him, watching him with rapt attention.

The thought makes Scott mentally smile and groan simultaneously. Tessa must be rubbing off on him if he's beginning to notice little looks and behaviors.

“I told you last time, call me Scott. Mr. Moir just sounds… weird," Scott corrects him with a grimace. Even his dad doesn’t go by Mr. Moir unless he’s at the bank. Ilderton is too small and everybody knows everybody – you’d been seen as strange if you insisted on formalities there. “The software has been great, thanks. I see you’ve met our newest employee, Kaetlyn.”

Trennt glances over at her, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, and Kaetlyn’s cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink under his gaze – confirming Scott’s suspicions. There’s definitely some chemistry there, and he wonders if Tess noticed and if she’s feeling tempted to do anything about it.

(Knowing her, she’s already planning a winter wedding for them.)

“Yeah,” Trennt finally answers, his voice a little dreamy until he quickly clears it and continues, “Miss Virtue asked me to come over and set her up. Her computer, I mean, not her. Setting people up would be Miss Virtue’s job. _Not_ that Kaetlyn needs to be set up, I just meant –“

Taking pity on him, Scott interrupts the verbal word-vomit with a chuckle, “That’s great, thank you for coming over so quickly. He’s the best, Kaetlyn, you’re in good hands.”

He very nearly winks at the double entendre, but resists at the last moment. If he’s learned anything from watching Tessa over the years, it’s that you can’t push people too hard. It’s all about gentle nudges.

She’d be so proud of him if she knew how much he’s been paying attention.

“We were just talking about the game against the Sabres on Friday,” Trennt mentions after looking around desperately for a way to change topics, his eyes finally landing on his own bag, “It’s too bad they lost.”

“Yeah, but it’s only the pre-season,” Kaetlyn chimes in, much to Scott’s surprise, “They still have plenty of time to win the important games and make it to the Stanley Cup.”

“I admire your optimism,” Scott laughs, “It’s nice to find someone who shares a fool’s hope like I do.” He's been longing for the Leafs to win the championship ever since he was old enough to recognize the blue uniforms. Eventually they have to make it at least once in his lifetime, right? The Cubs won the World Series this summer after one hundred and eight years, so anything is possible. 

“I just wish I could still watch the games," Trennt sighs, "But my roommate moved out and took his TV with him and I can't afford to buy a new one right now.”

“Come watch them at my place." The invitation is out of his mouth before he has time to think it through, but Scott finds he doesn't regret it. "There’s usually a couple of us guys all hanging out and you’re welcome to join. Just bring some beer or a snack to share.”

“Really?" Trennt beams at him, "Cool, thanks.”

"No problem," Scott shrugs, then as casually as possible says, "Well, I'll leave you two to it. Have fun." 

His brothers would mock him forever if they knew he was attempting to play matchmaker, but he's not  _really_ pushing them together. He's just... giving them a little nudge like Tessa would. It's harmless, and he really hopes it works out.

And maybe one office romance will encourage another...

          


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott hosts hockey night at his apartment, and Tessa gets a new client.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This coincides with EKOM chapter 3.

** plus/minus **

****

“How do you think Matthews is gonna do in his debut tonight?” Charlie carefully balances his newborn daughter Emmaline in one arm while trying to fill up a bottle with the other, struggling to scoop the formula into the small opening without spilling. Scott watches him fumble for a bit before taking pity on his brother and gathering up the baby out of his arms, cooing at her and making funny faces to try and coax a smile.

Charlie’s always been a great uncle to Danny’s kids, but he’s brand new at the whole dad thing and still getting the hang of some of the finer details (he hadn’t been around much when Danny’s kids were infants like Scott had, so he’d missed out on valuable practice time), and Scott would prefer if he didn’t get Similac all over his counter and floor. 

“I have high hopes for him,” Scott replies, blowing bubbles at the baby, “Nineteen is young, but he’s got a lot of potential. I hope he scores at least once tonight. It would be a great way to start the season.”

Auston Matthews was the top prospect of the 2016 NHL Entry Draft back in June, and Scott had been ecstatic when the Leafs drafted him first overall. With any luck, he’ll be a key player in getting them to the Stanley Cup final someday soon. Preferably before Scott’s old and grey so that he can still celebrate without breaking a hip.

His phone chimes, interrupting their conversation, and he fishes it out of his pocket with one hand while keeping Emmaline secured in the other, finding a text from Tessa accompanied by a crappy picture of a model with spiky platinum blonde hair. It looks like she’d taken a snapshot of a magazine, and he can see the fabric of her jeans propping it up in the background.

**Tessa:** Should I do my hair like this?

**Scott:** Uh… you know I support you, Virtch, but god no.

Tessa as a blonde? No way. She’d worn a platinum wig as part of a Halloween costume once, and while yes, he’d had some fantasies about Bond girls and undercover missions as a result, overall he can say with confidence that he’s not a fan. He prefers brunettes, especially brunettes named Tessa.

**Tessa:** Then what about this?

The next picture is of a model with orange hair chopped off in a jagged A-line cut, and he tries to picture it on her and snorts. It’s just too outrageous. She’d look like the girl from The Fifth Element, and somehow he thinks  _alien_ isn’t what she’s going for.

**Scott:** No. It would clash with your skin tone.

**Tessa:** You’re right. This?

It’s a picture of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson and Scott busts up laughing, jostling Emmaline and making her frown up at him with the tiniest, most adorable pout. He knows Tessa is cackling to herself on the other end, thinking she’s so funny, and that just makes him laugh harder.

"What is it?” Charlie finally has the bottle ready and he takes Emmaline back with a curious glance at Scott’s phone.

"Just Tess.” Scott answers quickly, keeping her message safe from his brother’s prying eyes even though he has nothing to hide. It had become instinct to hide everything after Charlie had accidentally seen a rather indecent photo that his last girlfriend had sent him during Christmas a couple years ago.

Not that Tessa would ever be sending him pictures like that, of course!

“She texts you more than Jordan texts me. I swear sometimes it’s like you guys are the married ones.”

Scott starts choking on his own saliva the second the M word comes out of Charlie’s mouth, his face turning red both from coughing and embarrassment. He’s not  _wrong_ , per se, they are closer than most people, but having it pointed out to him isn’t helpful. Especially because it just makes it even more obvious how mangled his love life is. One brother married a Virtue, the other married a Tessa, but fate completely forgot to put the two together for Scott! 

“Tell her to say hi to my wife for me,” Charlie adds once he’s sure Scott’s not at any risk of actually dying and his breathing is back under control.  

Jordan had been desperately in need of a break and some time out of the house after a few straight weeks of being at home on maternity leave, so she’d demanded that Tessa join her in Toronto for an overnight girl’s trip and some serious pampering. Leaving Charlie alone with the baby for the first time and the guys free to watch the game together.

“Will do,” Scott manages to smile, his eyes still watering slightly, as Charlie heads back into the living room where the rest of the guys are waiting for the hockey game to start.

As soon as he’s gone Scott reopens his phone and types a message back to her.

**Scott:** That one. Definitely.

**Scott:** Why the sudden need for change?

She’d been letting her hair fade back towards a slightly lighter shade of brown lately, closer to her natural color, instead of dying it super dark like she has for the past seven years, and he secretly loves it. Of course she’s free to do whatever she wants, but he hopes if she seriously is contemplating a change, it’s nothing too drastic.

**Tessa:** I’m at the salon with Jordan while she gets her roots done and I’m bored. Look at this!

She sends him a picture of a girl with long rainbow hair and the sides of her head buzzed, and Scott scoffs. That might be the most ridiculous one of all – there’s no way  _Tessa Virtue_ would ever shave off any of her precious hair. She’s too meticulous about its care and upkeep.

**Scott:** I think people might look for a pot of gold under your head if you do that.

**Scott:** Too bad they’ll only find a heart of gold instead.

**Tessa:** Awww! Do you want some wine with all that cheese? ;)

He laughs again and sends her a picture of the huge tray of various cheese dips he’d been preparing to serve with all the potato chips, using it to excuse his silly attempt at a compliment.  

**Scott:** How can I help but be cheesy when I’m surrounded by this?

**Tessa:** OMG that looks amazing. Take an extra bite of everything for me!

**Tessa:** Oops! Gotta go. Jordan’s done and we’re supposed to be cell phone free for this trip. Have fun tonight! Text me updates about the game – especially if Matthews scores.

**Scott:** Will do! Have a good time, kiddo. I hope I’ll still recognize you when you get back.

She shoots him a quick kiss emoji and Scott smiles all the way back into the living room. The fact that she’d taken the time to text him while off relaxing with her sister makes him feel a little giddy. A feeling that only grows when Matthews scores his first point just over eight minutes into the first period, snapping in a pass from Zach Hyman during a scrum around the net.

Tonight is shaping up to be the perfect night – the only way it could be better is if Tessa was actually here with him.

“Damn! I wish I could play like that,” Trennt whistles around a mouthful of seven layer bean dip before licking some guacamole off his thumb, “He’s amazing.”

“This is great news for our home opener against the Bruins on Saturday,” Kyle, one of Scott’s old friends from Ilderton, cracks open another beer and hands it to his boyfriend, Eli, “We might have a chance this year.”

“It’s because our coaching is so much better now,” Eli chimes in, gesturing to where Mike Babcock is standing in the corner of the screen, “Matthews is great, but the team would be nothing without him.”

“If anyone’s gonna get us to the cup, it’s Babs,” Scott agrees to hums of consensus from the five guys around him. He’s had an affinity for the coach ever since he’d met him briefly at a Canadian sports dinner back when he and Tess were still competing, but now that he’s coaching the Leafs that makes him practically a god in his book.

It’s crowded in his little apartment with everyone sprawled out between his couch, recliner, and the floor, but Scott likes it that way. Hockey is best when packed in by a bunch of other enthusiastic fans, and that’s why he volunteers to host game night so often. It’s almost as good as being at the Scotiabank Arena, and the food and beer are infinitely cheaper.

They watch with baited breath as Matthews dangles through a pair of Senators near the blue line before stealing the puck from Erik Karlsson and beating the goalie with an odd-angle forehand, and cheers erupt as the puck hits the back of the net, tying up the game.

They’re so loud the crotchety old man living in the floor below Scott starts banging on his ceiling with a broom, but they all ignore him. Hockey night is sacrosanct and thus what constitutes being a good neighbor is slightly different during the game than it would be at any other time during the week. Cheering is a must, and Mr. Jenkins is just going to have to deal with that.  

“He’s unstoppable tonight!” Alex smashes his beer bottle against Scott’s in a messy attempt at cheers, nearly sloshing the amber liquid over the rim, and Scott lets out a little whoop and shoots another text off to Tessa to let her know what happened. She probably won’t see it until tomorrow, but he knows she’ll be excited when she does.

Trennt’s phone chimes then too where it’s laying on the coffee table in front of his seat on the floor, the screen lighting up just long enough for Scott to catch the sender’s name, and Scott smiles to himself.

_Kaetlyn Osmond_.

Apparently his intuition had been right about the two of them.

“How’s that going?” He nudges Trennt with his knee and the young man’s lips quirk up in a bashful smile as he focuses on replying to her, sending way more emojis than Scott would use and about a million exclamation marks.

“It’s good. We’ve been on a couple dates so far and I’m taking her out to dinner at Moxie’s on Sunday.”

“That’s awesome, man. I’m happy for you guys.” Maybe he and Tess won’t have to intervene to get them together after all. It looks like they’re capable of doing that all on their own, which is how it should be. Fate knows what it’s doing - that's what all the rom-coms teach, anyway.

“Who’s this?” Charlie asks from where he’s bouncing and burping Emmaline in the corner of the room, catching everyone’s attention and steering all their eyes to Trennt.

“Tessa’s new assistant, Kaetlyn. She and Trennt really hit it off the other day,” Scott explains and everyone makes loud oohing sounds and wolf whistles.

It’s not a big deal,” Trennt mumbles, clearly embarrassed to be the subject of attention, but Scott can tell it  _is_ a big deal, and he grins.

“Take her flowers when you pick her up. Women love that on a date.” He suggests, waving his hand in a gesture for everyone else to join in giving advice.

"And don’t forget to compliment her outfit!”

“And open doors for her.”

“Ask her plenty of questions about herself."

“Is she a Leafs fan?” Alex asks with mock solemnity.

“Yeah,” Trennt nods, “That’s what she was just texting me about.”

“Then you gotta keep her.”

Scott’s pretty sure Midori couldn’t care less about hockey, but he doesn’t disagree with Alex’s comment so he lets it stand uncorrected. The poor guy’s probably still holding onto hope that he can convince his fiancé to become a fan, but Scott’s known Midori a lot longer and that is a futile attempt that can only end in disappointment.

“Look!” Trennt shouts, pointing at the screen, “Matthews just scored a third! The Leafs are winning!”

Once attentions are successfully diverted, Trennt relaxes again, and Scott smirks. He clearly has it bad for Kaetlyn, even if he's trying to hide it. Is this how Tessa feels when she spots a potential match and then that match does well? That explains the look of triumph on her face so often.

There  _is_  something strangely satisfying about making people happy like this, or even just watching two people find happiness on their own, and Scott wracks his brains for other ways to bring Trennt and Kaetlyn together. Maybe he can break something on his computer next week and ask Trennt to come fix it, and he’ll time it around lunch so that hopefully the young I.T. guy will get the hint and take Kaetlyn out to eat.

He should ask Tessa her opinion on this. She’s much better at plotting than he is, (unless it’s a prank, of course).

The game continues amid their raucous cheers and shouts, and Auston Matthews ends up scoring one more goal – becoming the first player in modern NHL history to score four goals in his NHL debut. But, sadly, despite his valiant effort the Leafs still lose five to four in overtime.

The guys linger for a little while after the final buzzer for some post-game analysis and clean-up, and then Scott’s left alone.

He takes out the garbage and recycling before changing into his striped pajama bottoms and tugging off his shirt, flinging it in the direction of his hamper and falling into bed. He feels fairly confident about their prospects this season, despite the loss. It was only the first game, and they still have a long way to go, and no one's ever accused Scott of being a pessimist, even if history should have taught him caution.

His eyelids start to droop shut and he’s more than halfway asleep when his phone starts to ring, the shrill sound cutting into the peaceful silence. Prying one eye open, he sees the goofy picture of Tessa he’d set as her contact photo years ago, and he reaches out to answer it – setting it to speaker so that he doesn’t have to move too much.

“Hey, T, wassup?” His voice is thick and slow like molasses, and moving his tongue feels like a monumental effort. Sleep had been so  _close_. 

“Hi! Were you sleeping?” She sounds apologetic, but also too full of energy to say goodnight and hang up, and Scott has a feeling this is going to be one of those nights where she’s too restless to sleep and needs conversation to help her wind down.

“Almost,” He admits truthfully, rubbing his eyes and trying to fully wake back up, propping himself up against the headboard.

“Sorry. Jordan’s already asleep, but I’m not tired yet, and I wanted to tell you that I bought you some new moisturizer. It smells like cucumber and it feels great on your skin and it’s great for faces that are prone to break-outs. You’re going to love it, I promise.”

Scott huffs out a little laugh and shakes his head affectionately. Of course she did. She’s always trying to take care of him. “Thanks, T, I’m sure it’ll be great. Did you end up shaving your head?”

Tessa laughs quietly, like she's smothering the noise with her hand to keep from waking up Jordan, and it makes him smile, "Sadly, no. It's exactly how it was before I left, I'm afraid." 

"Damn," Scott teases, fiddling with a loose string on the edge of his comforter, "I was really hoping The Rock would be my new business partner." 

"Nope. You're stuck with me."

"I guess I can live with that." He grins and he can tell she does too, the two of them smiling like idiots almost two hundred kilometers apart from each other, and the silence stretches on comfortably for a moment before she speaks again. 

“Was it a good game? Did the guys have fun?”

"Yeah we had a good time. The Leafs lost, but Matthews scored four points so I hardly count it as a true defeat.”

“Wow! Tell me all the details. Your texts were great, but I want to know everything I missed.”

He can hear rustling sounds, like she’s settling into bed and getting comfortable, and it creates a weird mental crossover between Tessa and hockey-talk that has him readjusting himself inside his pajamas.

_Now is so not the time, Moir._

“You want a complete play by play?” He lays back down as well, figuring he might as well be comfortable if she is, and rolls over on his side to face his phone on the nightstand so that she can still hear him properly.

“Yeah. It, um,” She hesitates and he swears he can hear her blush when she continues, “Your voice is soothing. It’ll help me fall asleep.”

Fuck. Does she have any idea what she does to him? What those simple statements mean to him?

No, of course she doesn’t, because if she did she’d either immediately hang up or already be here in his bed.

Scott sighs and shoves those thoughts away. It’s no use thinking about that right now. If his voice will help her fall asleep, then that’s exactly what he’ll give her. 

“Okay, so the first period went like this…”

 

****

 

“Thank you again, Mr. Santos.” Scott hangs up the call and pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing and sagging forwards against his desk. Talking to their parent company’s CFO is not exactly one of his favorite things, even if he has good things to report, and for some reason it always sucks all the energy out of him. It’s not that the man is scary, he’s just… intense and intimidating, like you would expect the head of any major department to be.

His stomach rumbles and his back aches, reminding Scott that he’d skipped lunch to catch up on work that had piled up over the weekend and to take the call with Mr. Santos, and it’s been hours since he moved away from his desk. He probably should have taken Tessa up on her offer to join her, Kaetlyn, and Midori for lunch, but he’d declined and now he’s paying the price.

Stretching until the joints in his back and elbows pop, Scott yawns and grabs the apple out of his drawer that he keeps there for emergencies such as this. A snack and a walk around the office to stretch his legs and get the blood flowing in his body again should do the trick and keep him motivated to continue working throughout the afternoon.

As he’s walking down the hallway he hears the front door open and Tessa and Kaetlyn come crashing into the office at top speed, heading straight for Kaetlyn’s computer without even so much as a glance in his direction. Whatever they’re up to, it must be serious, judging by the semi-panicked look on Tessa’s face.

"Hurry!” Tessa commands over Kaetlyn’s shoulder, “We have to look this guy up. It’s Semple, S E M P L E. I need to find out everything we can about him and he could be here any minute!”

_Ah_ , Scott realizes,  _a new client._ The last name stirs something in his memory, but he can’t quite place it. Whatever it is, it's vaguely unpleasant. 

“Did Midori say what time he would arrive?” Kaetlyn asks, clearly struggling to type under pressure, her face losing a shade of color with each mistake.

“No,” Tessa huffs in annoyance, and Scott smothers a laugh. She hates when people don’t stick to schedules. “He might not come at all, but better safe than sorry.”

“Oh, he’s cute,” Kaetlyn smiles at the computer screen and Tessa nods in agreement.

Scott immediately pushes off the wall where he’d been leaning as he watched their display, needing to see this mystery man for himself. “Who’s cute?” He asks, walking over to stand next to Tessa and slinging an arm around her shoulders while looking down at the computer screen. “That guy?”

No way. His hair is wavy but completely lacks volume, his eyes are too small for his head, and his teeth have been obviously whitened, not to mention the fact that Scott would know that fake, half-assed smile anywhere.

Now that he’s seen him, he remembers that Ryan Semple is the name of one of Alex’s friends. Which makes sense if Midori was the one to recommend Tessa’s services to him.

“He’s our new client, courtesy of Midori,” Tessa explains, and Scott forces her to lean forward with him so that he can get a better look at the screen, the apple crunching loudly as he takes another bite.

“Oh, I know that guy. He’s been at the bar a few times when the guys get together. Alex’s friend. Kind of snobby.”

Snobby, he figures, is a much nicer work than asshat.

“Scott!” Tessa protests his description anyway, despite his use of a kinder term, and shrugs his arm away, fixing him with a stern glare, “He’s going to be our client. You can’t talk about him like that. Besides, anyone would be snobby if they’re forced to get drinks at Molly Bloom’s when they’re used to something better, and he dresses like he makes a lot of money.”

“You love Molly Bloom’s, T,” Scott reminds her, jabbing her ribs in one of her ticklish spots and making her jump. She can claim she has extravagant taste all she wants, but he knows she’d much rather be at home reading a book than out at the hottest club or cozied up in one of Molly Bloom's vinyl booths with her close friends than all dressed up at a posh event in a dress that she can't breathe in.

“What else do we know, Kaetlyn?” Tessa asks, turning away from him, and Kaetlyn answers promptly.

“He’s from Montreal and will be thirty-four in October. He competed in two Olympics, but didn’t do very well in either of them. He went to boarding school in Ottawa. Now he works as an Angel Investor in Toronto.”

“Good, good. That’s a great start. So we know he’ll have high standards.”

“He sounds pretentious,” Scott mutters as his stomach growls again, and he knows his nephews and nieces would describe his current emotional state as  _hangry_. Not exactly the best mood for meeting someone new, which is unfortunate because as soon as he’s done speaking Ryan walks through the door.

Struts through the door, more like. He’s dressed in a black designer leather jacket, fitted jeans, and suede shoes – a pair of Ray Bans perched on his nose that he takes off with a flourish – and it makes Scott want to gag. It’s all so artfully crafted it couldn’t be more fake if he was starring in  _Dirty Rotten Scoundrels_ with Steve Martin.

“I parked my bike out front. I hope that’s okay,” He says by way of greeting, and Scott mentally adds  _inconsiderate_ to the running list of attributes he’s giving this guy in his head. Of course it isn’t okay if he blocks the entrance, but instead of receiving a swift reprimand, Kaetlyn speaks instead.

“You have a motorcycle? I love motorcycles!”

“Yeah,” Ryan responds, smiling politely at Kaetlyn, “It’s the new 2016 Indian Chief. I’ll show you later, if you want.”

“I’d love that!” She seems genuinely excited, and Scott wonders if she’s been out for a ride on Trennt’s Vance & Hines yet. It’s not nearly as fancy as an Indian, but it’s still a pretty cool bike. “My dad restores motorcycles so I grew up around them. I’d love to get a look at yours. Your bike, I mean,” She adds with a blush, and Scott chuckles at the accidental slip. Kaetlyn’s so sweet that anything even halfway indecent that comes out of her mouth just sounds adorable.

“What’s your name?” Ryan reaches out and Kaetlyn shakes his hand, but Scott notices that he’s not really looking at her. His gaze is back on Tessa just as soon as he can get away with it.

“Kaetlyn. I’m the receptionist here.”

“Oh, she’s so much more than that,” Tessa interjects, sticking her own hand out to greet their newest client, “She’s my assistant and a total lifesaver and miracle worker. I’m Tessa Virtue.”

Ryan smiles a  _real_ smile then, one that Scott can tell is real by the way Ryan’s eyes crinkle and his voice becomes infused with genuine emotion, and it makes him bristle. “Of course you are. Midori’s friend. Your fame precedes you. I’m Ryan Semple, although I guess you probably already knew that.”

“Ryan,” Scott cuts in, reaching out to take Ryan’s hand - forcing him to let go of Tessa’s so that he can shake it, “Good to see you again.”

It really isn’t.

“It’s Shawn, right?” Ryan says, squinting a little as he looks at Scott like he’s trying to remember him. How hard could it be? Scott tries not to be egotistical, but usually people remember someone if they've met them more than once.

“Scott, actually,” Scott replies with a forced attempt at an easy smile, trying not to grind his teeth together. He can already tell that Tessa is staring at him with disapproval, and he’s certain it’s because she can tell that he’s faking being friendly because Ryan is their new client. “We’ve met a few times at guy’s night with Alex. Although I think you’ve spent most of those on the phone.”

“Well, you know how it is with business. The work never ends.”

“Sure. Well, speaking of, I’d better get back to my own work. Ladies,” Scott nods goodbye and walks away, shutting his office door behind him and feeling grateful for the solitude.

What was oppressive only a few minutes ago is now a place of refuge, and he’d rather be hungry and cooped up for a little while longer than have to listen to that man talk any more. He might be Tessa’s new client, and she might be happy about that, but that doesn’t mean he has to be.

The sooner she can set Ryan up on dates and find him a girlfriend, the better.

 


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snowstorm. A movie night. An accidental sleepover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This coincides with chapter 4 of EKOM.

** crashing the net **

****

The snow is falling in thick flakes over London, the tail end of their latest winter storm that’s only now starting to taper off, and had resulted in only a few centimeters on the ground Scott would have thought it was pretty. But it had left them with over half a meter of snow – a fact he knows not just because of the weather app on his phone, but because he’s currently outside shoveling it.

He’d been worried as soon as he saw how much was accumulating that Suzanne, his old dance coach and dear friend, would get buried in it. Which is why he’s currently standing in her driveway, jeans soaked up to his knees, trying to clear the snow for her.

He doesn’t mind it too much, though. There’s something satisfying about the manual labor, saving him from an early trip to the gym in the morning, and it keeps him distracted enough that he can’t dwell too much on the fact that Tessa is currently out at dinner with Ryan.

It’s not a date. Tessa had sworn up and down the Thames that this is strictly a work dinner, but Scott can’t help feeling like something is up with Ryan, despite her protests. There’s just something off about how often the guy comes into the office, the fact that none of the dates Tessa has set him up on have worked out (surely at least one of the women had deserved a second date), and the way he looks at her. It sets Scott on edge.

And now tonight – Ryan's insistence that they have their meeting on a Friday night at a fancy restaurant downtown? The request had been inappropriate and screamed date night. But Tessa is nothing if not professional, so she had cancelled their standing Friday movie night tradition and agreed to go, leaving Scott out in the cold.

Literally.

A snowplow drives down the street, pushing heaps of snow onto the front of Suzanne’s driveway that he’d just finished, and Scott groans.

He’d much rather be cozied up on Tessa’s couch right now, but he sucks it up and clears the fresh snow, chipping away at the packed slush that he knows will turn into dangerous patches of ice if he doesn’t take care of them now. The last thing he wants is Suzanne or anybody else slipping on hidden ice tomorrow.

“Scott!” Suzanne catches his attention and he turns to see her walking towards him with a steaming thermos, “I thought you could use some cocoa now that you're practically finished. Thank you so much for doing this, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, Suze. I’m happy to help. I’ll never say no to a gift of cocoa though,” He winks and gratefully accepts the mug, holding onto it with both hands and letting the warmth seep in through his gloves. He couldn’t find his heavy duty winter gloves (they're probably shoved away in an old coat somewhere from last winter), so he’d had to make do with thin stretchy ones that hardly do anything to protect him from the frozen water.

“No Tessa tonight? Don’t you two usually have dates on Friday?”

“Movie nights, Suze, not dates,” Scott corrects her. She does this every time – making thinly veiled hints about him and Tessa, teasing him mercilessly about his crush. Twisting his words around to make things sound like more than they are. And yet, it always makes him blush. 

When he was twenty-three and retiring early from competitive ballroom dance, he’d gone to Suzanne and asked her opinion about asking Tessa out on an official date now that they didn’t have to worry about a romantic relationship affecting their dance partnership, but she’d warned him to give her time. To give themselves the space to adjust to a different life before attempting another big change.

He’d listened, but that hadn’t stopped her from bringing it up every so often since then, much to his chagrin.

“Uh huh, call them whatever you want,” She smiles knowingly, and Scott rolls his eyes and focuses on sipping his cocoa.

“She had a business meeting.”

“At night?" Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline as her eyes go wide, "This is a little late for that, isn’t it?”

“It was a business dinner. The client requested it and you know Tess, she can’t ever say no if it makes someone else happy.”

“I know,” She sighs and shakes her head, “She works too hard. Oh! That reminds me – let me get you my latest jam. You can take it to her and it will perk her right up after working such a long week.”

Somehow Scott seriously doubts Tessa will be joyous at the prospect of new jam, but he tries to smile enthusiastically anyway.

“What kind is it this time?” He asks with no small amount of trepidation. Suzanne’s jams, if they can be called that, are an entity unto themselves. You never know if you’re going to get something decent or something completely inedible. Too often the answer is the latter. 

“Cucumber, mango, apple!” She runs back inside with no regard for the icy ground, managing to scamper across it without even a hint of a slip. "Be right back!" 

It sounds weird, but it doesn’t necessarily sound _bad_ , and Scott accepts it gracefully when she thrusts it into his arms and hugs him.

“Thanks! I’m sure Tess will be glad to know you were thinking about her.”

“You get on home and get warm and dry now,” Suzanne wags her finger at him, taking the shovel and gently pushing Scott towards his car, “You've done more than enough. And tell Tessa not to be a stranger. It’s been too long since I’ve had a proper conversation with her.”

"I will. Thanks again, Suze.” He waves the hand holding the jam jar at her by way of farewell and drives away, turning the heat on full blast and spinning the radio dial until he finds a station playing Christmas music that he can sing along to.

The streets are a little better now than they were earlier and his stomach is grumbling loudly. He hadn’t eaten dinner before going over to Suzanne’s house and the physical labor had burned away any remaining calories still in his body from lunch, leaving him famished.

Once he gets back to his apartment he kicks off his sopping wet boots and heads straight for the kitchen, intending to scrounge up something for dinner. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten to go grocery shopping this week and his supplies are running dismally low.

Stuck between the depressing options of either half a Caesar salad that’s probably gone soggy by now or a frozen TV dinner that’s frosted to the side of his freezer, Scott groans. Neither option sounds particularly appetizing, but he doesn’t have the energy to go to the store, either.

Take-out it is then.

He pushes the freezer door shut, rattling the magnets holding up the family pictures stuck to the outside of his fridge, and digs out the menus he keeps in the drawer next to the sink and starts sifting through them, trying to see what catches his eye and also sounds like it will satisfy his stomach.

His phone starts to ring and Scott pulls his it out and grins when he sees Tessa’s face looking back at him, answering cheerfully after only two rings, “Hey, T. What’s up? How was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date,” She corrects him immediately, and Scott mouths the words along with her and chuckles quietly to himself at her predictability. “I told you it was a business meeting.”

“At Garlic’s? On a Friday night? Sure it was,” He snarks, unable to resist teasing her even though he can practically hear her rolling her eyes at him from here. “Was the food as good as everyone says?”

His stomach rumbles loudly at the thought of a huge gourmet meal, and it’s a wonder she doesn’t hear it through the phone and ask who the monster is in the house with him.

“It was fine, but kind of weird and small portion sizes. Which is actually why I’m calling. I’m ordering take-out, want to come over?”

Scott slides the menus back in the drawer and slams it shut, heading straight towards his bedroom to change. It’s like she could sense exactly what he needed, and maybe he can pretend she missed hanging out with him a little, too.

“Thaifoon?” He asks hopefully, perking up where he’s sitting on the edge of his bed tugging on fresh socks.

“Yep!” She replies cheerfully, “And I’ll even _spring_ for extra rolls. Get it? Because they’re spring rolls?”

“You make that joke every time,” Scott chuckles, and he can tell she’s grinning. Probably proud of herself for making him laugh with the same tired material. “And the street style beef?” He prods and she giggles. His order hasn’t changed once in the four years they’ve been ordering from that restaurant, even though she’s always trying to get him to branch out.

“Don’t you want to try something new?”

“You ask me that every time, too. I know what I like, Virtch." It's a simple statement, yet he's talking about so much more than just Asian food when he says it. “See you in twenty.”

“Okay. Be careful though, the roads are slick.”

Scott smiles at the obvious concern in her voice. The sound doing more to warm him than hot cocoa ever could. “Always am!”

 

 

Thirty minutes later the two of them are piled up on the couch surrounded by white cardboard boxes and enough food to feed a small army, and Scott sinks a little further into the cushions, feeling perfectly content. 

He loves Tessa's house. It's so  _her_ \- an obvious refuge for when her senses become overwhelmed by all the colors and bustling activity of the outside world (a calming effect he's also come to greatly appreciate over the years), and she always has the fluffiest pillows and blankets to contrast with her more modern furniture and understated color scheme. 

He’s turned on an episode of _FRIENDS_ while they eat, sensing that they both need something easy to watch that doesn’t require much focus and a chance to unwind and mentally relax from their respective days.

Tessa looks about as exhausted as he feels, and he wonders idly if she’s been having trouble sleeping lately. Or maybe it’s something else that’s making her overtired...

“So tell me about your _meeting_ with Ryan.” He tries to sound casual, keeping his eyes off her and focusing on spearing a large piece of beef on his plate with his chopstick. Tessa insists that they eat with the traditional utensils, but he’s never quite managed the dexterity necessary for managing them like she has. Once when they were kids they'd tried picking up dice using chopsticks and running with them to the other side of the room, and Scott had failed every time while Tessa managed to master it on her second try. 

Tessa groans and bumps her knee against his, “I don’t want to talk about it. We’re vegging right now and I’m happy.”

As nice as it is to hear that she’s happy here with him, he can’t help but be concerned about the implications of her statement.

“You weren’t happy earlier?” He frowns, searching her face for signs of distress, “Was it bad? I thought you like working with Ryan.”

God knows why she does. He’s a prick.

"I do. I just don’t get why he’s being so difficult. It’s obvious he likes her, so just put us all out of our misery.” She piles vegetables onto his plate, including broccoli even though she knows he doesn't like it, but Scott doesn’t move to stop her. He’s too confused.

What “her” is she talking about? It’s not like Tessa to refer to herself in the third person.

“Likes who?”

She takes a moment to reply, like she’s already mentally moved on and has to remember what they're talking about, “Kaetlyn.”

Scott snorts so hard he inhales the piece of broccoli he’d been chewing on and starts choking, the green vegetable stubbornly lodging itself in his throat like the disgusting villain it is, and Tessa starts pounding on his back to try and help – her eyes wide and frightened.

“Are you okay!?” She screeches once he’s able to breathe again, and after another couple of seconds he manages to croak out an answer.

“Yeah. Sorry, I just thought you said you think Ryan likes Kaetlyn, but I must have heard you wrong.”

“That is what I said,” Tessa replies, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“No, it’s not,” Scott shoots back in disbelief. How can this be happening right now? Is _this_ why Kaetlyn had called things off with Trennt a couple of weeks ago?

The poor guy had been crushed, and he’s been moping and pining ever since – to the point where Scott encouraged him to apply for a Masters program, if only for something to keep him occupied until he can get over her. And Scott can't deny that he'd personally been pretty disappointed, too, that things didn't work out between them. He'd been so sure they were perfect for each other.

“Yes, it is. I think I know what words I spoke, Scott,” She rolls her eyes and turns back to the TV, and Scott can tell she’s resolved to stand her ground on this. She actually somehow believes what she’s saying.

“No. Because you are not dumb.”

It’s the worst thing he could have said in that moment. He knows she hates to have her intelligence questioned and he watches as she visibly bristles.

“Excuse me? I don’t think it’s dumb to acknowledge what’s right in front of me.”

Well clearly she does, because one, _hello_ he’s right here constantly looking at her like she hung the moon, and two, Kaetlyn and Ryan are NOT a match.

“You can’t be serious.”

"I absolutely am!”

“Tess, on what planet to Kaetlyn and Ryan work together?” He gesticulates wildly and Tessa turns to face him, setting her plate down on the coffee table and propping one leg up on the couch – clearly gearing up for a fight.

“On mine! You’ll see. I bet they’ll be in each other’s arms by Christmas.”

Scott snorts derisively, “That’s barely a month away.”

“I picture a proposal six to eight months later.”

Damn. Is that how fast things move in Tessa’s world? Because that seems a little extreme. Especially for a couple that, whatever she may think, doesn’t even like each other. Well, he can’t speak for Kaetlyn. Maybe she does have feelings and Tessa’s just trying to help out a friend, but Ryan could not be more indifferent towards the sweet-tempered brunette.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, VIrtch. You have go to slow down here. You’re cruising down a highway nobody else is even on.”

“You don’t get it. You stay cooped up in your office every time Ryan is there. You don’t see what I see.”

“No, but I know what kind of man he is outside of work. Don’t you remember I’ve actually spent time with him? He’s always boasting about the latest woman he’s been with – models and actresses and athletes.” Frankly it’s disgusting, the way Ryan talks about women like they’re trophies or notches in his bedpost, and Scott would be horrified to see Kaetlyn numbered among them. “A guy like Ryan is never going to date a quiet, naïve, newly graduated assistant. No matter how cute she is,” Scott states point blank ,and Tessa’s frown deepens.

“People can change. And Kaetlyn is great! She’s smart and kind and funny and sweet. Any man would be lucky to have her!”

“I agree, but that man isn’t Ryan Semple.”

“Whatever,” Tessa whips back around to face the screen again, folding her arms over her chest and scooting away so that there isn’t a single part of their bodies touching anymore, and Scott feels the loss keenly. “Clearly we disagree so there’s no point in talking about it anymore. Let’s just watch TV. Look, Rachel and Chandler are fighting over the cheesecake. You love this episode.”

He knows what she’s doing. Brushing him off and acting like there’s nothing wrong and trying to distract him with excellent television. But his mom and dad had always taught him never to let arguments simmer, lest they fester and grow.

“Tess,” He sighs, running his hand through his fluffy hair and probably making it super messy in the process, “Come on, kiddo. Don’t be mad.” He nudges her with his elbow, but Tessa just folds her arms tighter.

“I’m not mad.”

He almost laughs at how stubborn she is. He knows how she acts when she’s angry, and this is it to a T. (He gives himself a mental high-five for that pun.)

“Yes, you are. You’ve got that little wrinkle right between your eyes,” He pushes at the spot with his thumb and Tessa flinches and bats his hand away, but he can sense her resolve weakening.

“I don’t get a wrinkle when I’m angry.”

“Yes, you do,” He smiles, “And you go all quiet and your eyes get all intense. And while normally I’m a big fan of your green eyes – have I told you recently how gorgeous they are? – I don’t really like it when their fury is directed at me.”

Tessa pouts, even flattery not breaking her will to stay mad, and continues staring at the TV. “I’m not mad at you. Watch the show. Look, Joey just pulled out a fork from his pocket and joined them eating the cheesecake off the ground. Isn’t that hilarious?”

"Tes-sa,” He drawls out a whine, and she glances over at him.

_Success._

She hesitates for another couple of seconds, but then sighs and turns to face him fully, “I’m not mad at you, I promise. And thank you, you have pretty eyes, too.”

The compliment doesn’t make him smile nearly as much as the end of the fight does, and Scott can’t resist pulling her in for a side hug – refusing to let go when she tries to pull away, wanting her near to him for as long as possible.

She allows him to pull her in closer, much to his delight, and Scott drops the lightest of kisses to the top of her head. So soft she probably doesn’t even feel it.

They settle further into the couch and it doesn’t take long before her breathing evens out and she slumps against him. He probably should move her to her bed and go home, but, well… it’s warm and cozy and nice and his own eyelids are feeling pretty heavy.

If he indulges in a little nap, what’s the harm? It’s obvious that they’re both exhausted and in need of the sleep, and if Tessa can pass out for a little bit, then so can he.

Convinced, Scott carefully shifts them around, making sure not to jostle Tessa too much, repositioning them so that they’re laying more comfortably horizontally on the couch with him spooning her from behind. He pulls the throw blanket over them, making sure it covers her completely so that she’ll stay warm, and snuggles in close. She smells like strawberries and he’s half asleep already tucked away inside the cocoon he'd created.

Just an hour. That’s it and then he’ll wake her up and go.

Tessa sighs dreamily and shifts a little, her hips pressing backwards into his, and Scott’s last thought before drifting off is that he hopes he doesn’t accidentally pop a boner in his sleep.

 

 

He wakes to the morning sun reflecting off of Tessa’s white walls and furniture, turning everything a pale shade of yellow, and the smell of something burning. Bacon, maybe. Whatever it is, it definitely shouldn't reek like that. 

He kicks the blanket away, disappointed, but not surprised, to find that Tessa is no longer asleep beside him nor located anywhere close by. He’d slept better last night than he has in a while, even though the couch wasn’t kind to his sore muscles, and he knows he can attribute that to her presence.

Once he's stretched a bit and his body is fully awake, he follows the smells coming from the direction of the kitchen and finds Tessa there setting out two plates – complete with poached eggs and whole wheat toast and slices of grapefruit. There’s also a skillet on the stove with blackened bacon in it, proving he was right about the smell, and a fresh pot of coffee brewing on the counter.

She’s so focused on what she’s doing that she hasn’t noticed his presence yet, and Scott takes the opportunity to quietly observe her and soak in the moment.

She’s wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt knotted at the waist and her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she’s never looked more beautiful. She’s a perfect vision of what he wants his mornings to look like for the rest of his life, and the urge to wrap his arms around her is so strong that he has to physically restrain himself by shoving his hands inside his pockets.

“What’s all this?”

She jumps in surprise at the sound of his voice, but instantly relaxes when she sees that it’s only him. “I made you breakfast!” Tessa replies with a smile so bright it overshadows the sun, and Scott’s heart swells inside his chest. “Do you want coffee or orange juice? I went shopping a couple of days ago so I promise it’s not expired.”

“Coffee would be great, T, thanks.” He slides into one of the spots she’d set at the counter and reaches for the salt and pepper shakers to lightly sprinkle over his eggs. “You didn’t have to do all of this though, you know. I would have been happy to make breakfast since you ordered the food last night.”

“Don’t be silly. I was up early this morning and this sounded yummy so I made enough for two.” She scrapes the burnt bacon off the pan into the garbage before setting it in the sink to soak and taking the seat next to him, and Scott gives into his need to show her some sort of physical affection by throwing his arm around her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek.

“You’re the best, Virtch.”

Tessa’s cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink and she ducks her head, “Thank you.”

"Thanks for letting me crash on your couch, too. I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don't apologize. We both dozed off and you know you’re always welcome to sleep with me – on my couch!” She immediately corrects herself, her face flaming red, “I mean you’re always welcome to sleep on my couch! Or in my guest room. Because, you know, mi casa es su casa. I didn’t mean sleep with like… Hey! Let’s do the crossword puzzle.” She scrambles for that morning’s paper, flipping through it at the speed of light until she finds the page she wants, and then digs out two pens from somewhere nearby and hands one to him.

Scott’s still struck speechless by her little outburst though, his brain struggling to process anything past her first accidental sentence, and he can do nothing but stare at her. He knows his mouth must be hanging open like an idiot, but he can’t seem to make it shut.

“Number two down, ‘Pandora and others,’ four letters. Any ideas?” She’s keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the puzzle between them, and Scott finally manages to shake himself out of his stupor and look at it with her, trying to pretend like she didn't just drop a metaphorical bomb on his breakfast.

Just once it would be nice if he could read what's going on inside that brain of hers. Aren't Freudian slips like that supposed to reveal subconscious feelings? Was that almost a confession? 

He can't be sure, but he certainly hopes so. 

“Um… Apps?” He suggests as an answer to the prompt, and Tessa nods in agreement and writes it down.

“I think so, too. Next one!”

She seems determined to move past her little slip up, so he plays along with it – eating their breakfasts and working on the puzzle together in quiet companionship that slowly starts to feel normal again. But he knows it’s a moment that will stay burned in his mind forever.

Now he knows what it sounds like when she says _sleep with me_ , her voice still scratchy and thick from sleep, and he’ll never recover.

He’s not even sure that he wants to.

            


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas from a happy, then not-so-happy, Scott!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This coincides with EKOM chapter 5.

** interference **

****

Stars are shining brightly in the night sky, the city skyline glows in the moonlight, Christmas carols fill the air wherever you go, and Scott could not be any happier than he is right at this moment. In fact, this might be the best holiday season he’s had in a few years, and that’s saying something considering how much he loves the entire month of December.

Moir family Christmases are an impressive undertaking unto themselves, his parents going all out with over a week of celebratory activities leading up to the big day, but this year there’s something extra special in his life that’s making the scenery look a little more beautiful, his food taste a little bit sweeter, and his spirits lift a little bit higher.

Tonight is the annual company Christmas party, an event Scott actually looks forward to and enjoys attending, as opposed to most mandatory company shindigs, and as usual Kate Virtue has spared no expense. She’d chosen an elegant venue with sweeping views over the city decorated to the nines in red, green, and white, and ordered catering by the city’s best chefs, but it isn’t all of the finery, or the holiday season, that has him feeling so merry.

No, the source of his happiness lies strictly with his beautiful business partner.

(And maybe also the three glasses of champagne he’s had so far while he waits for her to show up, but that’s beside the point.)

Ever since his impromptu sleepover at her house a few weeks ago and Tessa’s subsequent little slip up the morning after, he’s been feeling more hopeful than ever that they’re heading in the same direction with their relationship. They cuddle during movie nights, eat lunch together almost every day at the office, and just yesterday she’d run her fingers through his hair and told him how much she loves its current length. All signs pointing towards a non-platonic future.

Maybe tonight, if he’s lucky, he can ask her to dance and remind her just how good of partners they are in that respect, too. After all, as they sing in Tessa’s favorite Christmas movie, “dancing soon becomes romancing.” All he needs is the opportunity to show her that he can be a good partner in other aspects of her life as well, ones that maybe haven't occurred to her quite yet.

“Scott, it’s nice to see you. It’s been a while.” Mr. Bones, a nice, older gentleman who serves as the VP of Marketing, comes over and enthusiastically shakes his hand, and Scott returns the gesture with a warm smile.

“It’s nice to see you too, sir. How is Cecilia? Last time we spoke you mentioned she was thinking about getting a dog.”

“Yes,” Mr. Bones pretends to groan and Scott laughs, “A giant labradoodle that she’s named Pookie.”

“You’re kidding!”

"I only wish I was. The beast is the most gentle creature in the world with her, but can’t stand me. He barks whenever I go near her.” The man pulls out his phone and shows him a picture of his wife with her arms around a big, black, hairy animal, and Scott chuckles along with him.

“That’s unfortunate. Your wife got a dog that wants to replace you.”

“Indeed. If you have any suggestions about bribing animals, I’m open to all of them.”

“If I think of anything, I’ll be sure to let you know,” Scott laughs and finishes off his glass, his eyes scanning the room and landing on Tessa standing on the opposite side, clearly having just arrived.

She’s wearing a knee-length red dress with strappy shoulders that clings to her like a second skin, and Scott knows if heart eyes were an actual thing, he’d totally have them right now. His favorite Tessa is the one that’s comfy and make-up free and wearing her sweat pants (the ones he’s pretty sure are at least ten years old), but his _second_ favorite is this one. She’s so beautiful she literally takes his breath away for a moment.

_Stunning. Absolutely stunning._

Tessa gives him and Mr. Bones a little wave and Scott sets his drink down on the nearest surface and turns to the other man, “If you’ll excuse me, Tessa just arrived and there’s something I need to discuss with her.”

“Of course. How could I keep you from such a beautiful partner?” The man smiles and Scott thanks him before practically jogging over to talk to her, his smile growing wider with each step that he takes.

“Hey, T,” He greets her with a hug that’s probably too enthusiastic and overly friendly for a work function, and Tessa cocks her head and smiles up at him – a question written plainly on her face. He has no doubt it’s obvious he’s had a couple of drinks, but he doesn’t care. He’s too happy to see her.

“Hey, you. Enjoying yourself?” She giggles slightly, clearly amused by his antics, and Scott grins even wider and winks.

“Now that you’re here.” He snatches a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and hands it to her, glancing around at the empty space beside her, “Where’s your date?”

She was supposed to bring Kaetlyn with her since the poor girl was afraid to show up to such a big event on her own, despite her excitement at being invited, but the brunette is nowhere in sight.

“Kaetlyn’s sick,” Tessa explains with a small frown, “Some sort of nasty flu virus.”

“Is she okay? Has she seen a doctor?” There has been a rather vicious strain of the illness going around the area the past few weeks, to the point where schools had asked parents to keep their kids home if there was even the slightest sign of them being sick, and Scott knows how debilitating the flu can be. If she’s sick she needs prompt medical attention so that it doesn’t get worse.

“Yes, and she has medication to help. I took her some soup earlier.”

“That was nice of you. It’s too bad she can’t make it tonight. I know she was looking forward to it.”

“I know,” Tessa sighs, “I was, too.” She bites her bottom lip, chewing on it lightly while she frowns and lets out a little sigh of regret, and Scott gets briefly distracted by the urge to bite it himself. _I wonder if she’d like that_ , he muses, following the path of her tongue as she releases her hold and licks her lip to soothe the spot, _I know I would._

“Did you bring a date?” She asks suddenly, jolting him out of his thoughts, and he almost laughs. A date with someone else is just about the last thing he wants these days. The idea of him bringing another woman when there’s a chance of dancing with her? No way.

“Nope. Flying solo tonight.”

Tessa nods her head with satisfaction, and Scott’s hope soars even higher. She’s _happy_ he’s alone – surely that’s a good sign? If she had been serious all those times about setting him up on a date, she wouldn't be so glad at seeing him still attending events alone.

Her expression changes from pleased to teasing as she eyes him critically up and down, and Scott can tell what’s about to come next. He knew when he picked out his outfit tonight that she’d have something to say about it.

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You couldn’t even bother to wear a suit.”

He rolls his eyes at her and runs a hand down his torso, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles there, “We can’t all have a designer wardrobe, Virtch. If we did then how would you stand out?”

“I don’t know…” Tessa ponders for a moment, a wicked gleam in her eye, “Last year you and the entire I.T. department stood out just fine when you decided to belt _Bohemian Rhapsody_ at the top of your lungs halfway through the night.”

Scott purses his lips together and glares at her. “We agreed never to mention that.”

"No, you agreed,” Tessa shakes her head with a little laugh, poking him in the chest with her index finger, “ _I,_ however, have the entire thing on video.”

She pulls her phone out of her purse and waves it around, clearly taunting him, and in an instant Scott makes a decision and lunges for it – wrapping an arm around her waist so that she can’t run away and using his other hand to attempt to snatch it out of her fingers.

In the scuffle they nearly go tumbling into the floral pillar behind them, and Scott barely manages to keep his feet planted and maintain his center of gravity so that they don’t crash and make a spectacle of themselves.

As it is, they end up practically half-leaning up against the wall of a staircase breathing heavily from the scuffle, his arm still holding her in a tight embrace, and he looks up and spots a clump of mistletoe hanging from the banister of above them.

_Is this the moment_? He looks back down at her and his eyes flicker briefly to her red lips. His heart is pounding, a constant drumming that seems to dare him to close the distance between them, and he starts to lean forward when a smug voice that’s all too familiar ruins it.

“Tessa?”

Tessa rights herself as quickly as possible, pushing Scott away and slipping her phone back into her clutch to make sure he doesn’t try to steal it, and Scott grits his teeth together to keep from groaning at the interruption.

“Ryan, you’re here.” She sounds surprised, which makes Scott feel a little better. Clearly she hadn’t expected him to show up tonight, since he’d been invited by Kaetlyn and she no longer could make it, and if Scott had to guess based on the tone in her voice, she’s a little annoyed to see him as well.

“I was invited,” Ryan reminds her with an easy smile, nodding hello at someone in passing and waving at a few people across the room.

It’s obnoxious, the way he seems to know everybody and everything and lords over whatever room he’s in. Like he thinks his very presence is a gift. Scott can’t stand it, so with a terse nod he leaves – feeling a brief flicker of guilt at abandoning Tessa. But then, she’s always claimed she likes Ryan, so perhaps she doesn’t really mind.

He finds someone else to talk to, a member of the magazine staff that always writes articles he enjoys, but after he’s barely said hello he finds his attention helplessly shifting back to Tessa.

She looks uncomfortable, taking an awkward sip of her champagne while listening to Ryan talk, and before he can blink Scott’s watching the him reach out and trace the strap of her dress.

And wait - did he just slip a finger underneath the fabric?

Ryan’s intentions could not be clearer. He’s checking Tessa out, mentally undressing her actually, by the look of it, and Tessa could not appear less into him if she tried. Everything about her stance is screaming for help, the need to escape written plainly on her face, and that spurs Scott into action.

“Excuse me, Michelle,” He quickly apologizes to the journalist, interrupting her mid-sentence, and rushes over to Tessa’s side.

“Virtch, come dance with me.” He snatches her hand and drags her away from Ryan with barely a glance in the other man’s direction, not caring in the slightest that what he’s just done could be perceived as incredibly rude. And to a client, no less.

But does rudeness count if the client is a giant sleaze ball?

“You’re a saint. An angel. My hero. I owe you my life. You can have my firstborn child,” Tessa rambles while Scott takes away her empty glance and sets it down so that he can guide her into a waltz, losing them amongst the crowd of dancers and hiding her from Ryan’s lewd eyes and inappropriate intentions.

He _almost_ says, “I’d rather _father_ your firstborn child,” but that would probably be crossing a line, so he refrains and says something light and teasing instead.

“Keep going, I’m liking this list so far.” He grins at her and tightens his hold – pulling her flush against him when another couple spins too close to prevent a collision, but feeling thrilled when she doesn't move away once they're gone. “What else?”

“Anything you want,” Tessa laughs, “I owe you all the praise in the world for saving me just now. Ryan was being weird.”

“Ryan’s always weird,” Scott makes a face and is pleased when Tessa laughs harder. She’s much more relaxed now, and he’s happy to have helped ease the tension she’d been feeling only moments ago.

“You’re just biased because he wore a three-piece suit tonight.” She raises her eyebrow at him in a clear challenge, and Scott rolls his eyes and dips her without warning, grinning when she squeaks in surprise.

“I don’t need a fancy suit to impress you.”

They waltz around the dance floor, spinning and twirling and showing off their frankly still impressive skills a little more than they normally would. It feels _right_ , as natural as breathing, dancing with her like this, and Scott can’t help but wish they could stay like this forever. Everything seems so much easier on the dance floor where they can let their bodies do all the talking.

After a few songs the music slows into something meant more for swaying, and Scott holds his breath and gently encourages Tessa to move in closer – breathing out a sigh of contentment when she does and goes so far as to tuck her head into the crook of his neck.

He traces the curve of her spine with his thumb, memorizing the way it feels under his hand. Cataloguing how soft her skin is, the press of her curves and the underlying strength of her muscles, the way little tufts of air caress his collarbone each time she exhales – sending shivers down his spine.

“This is nice,” She murmurs, and Scott hums happily. He can’t say that he disagrees. “We should do this more often.”

_Yes_ , he agrees immediately. However and whenever she wants.

“Thirteen years of competition wasn’t enough for you, kiddo?” He teases her, because it’s what they do, but he can’t keep the smile off his face or out of his voice. The rush of competition was nothing compared to the rush he feels holding her in his arms like this.

When Tessa had first told him about the problem with her legs, the pain she was feeling and the devastating news the doctor had given her, they had both been confused and overwhelmed, but she had demanded that he continue dancing. Had tried so hard to convince him not to give up his career and potential for her and find another partner – even holding a few auditions without telling him. But what she didn’t understand was that there was no next partner for him. She was the whole reason he started dancing in the first place, and if he couldn’t dance with her, then he wouldn’t dance at all. He had told her that every day until she believed him and accepted that they would be retiring  _together_. 

What they have is magic, platonic or not, and it would be impossible to duplicate with anyone else.

Tessa makes a happy noise in the back of her throat and snuggles in even further, her nose bumping up against the front of his neck, “It’s nice doing this and not being judged for it.”

“Well then don’t look now…” Scott jokes, swallowing thickly. With the way she’s currently positioned herself, all it would take is the slightest twist of his neck and he could kiss her bare shoulder. Press his warm lips against her skin and run them up to that spot underneath her ear and…

His hands grip her a little tighter as he tries to maintain his cool and continue teasing her instead of giving into that almost overwhelming urge.

“…Because there’s an older couple across the room watching us and I definitely think they’re judging.”

“What?” She tries to lift her head, but now that she’s there Scott can’t bear the thought of it not lasting a little longer, so he laughs and moves his chin to keep her in place, spinning them around to distract her.

“Don’t let them know we’re onto them. I think they were giving us a good score, don’t worry.” He tilts his face just enough so that his lips caress her ear as he whispers, “Maybe they’re secret Russian judges, here to see if we’re still a threat to their dancers.”

He can feel Tessa smile mischievously against his collar, recognizing the game he’s playing, “Maybe they’re spies sent here because Mr. Bones is a secret agent who defected and holds crucial information that they need.”

“Yes. Mr. Bones is an excellent name for a character in a movie,” Scott agrees, whispering conspiratorially and humming the James Bond theme song in her ear, making her giggle.

“He has the codes for the nuclear weapons,” She suggests, and Scott finally allows her to lift her head so that she can look up and find the couple in question. They do look kind of like a Soviet cliché, dressed in all black and wearing grim faces, and at the moment Mr. Bones is looking at them rather oddly, which only adds to the story they’ve concocted.

“No, for the _neo-_ nuclear weapons,” Scott amends, and Tessa tilts her head back to look at him.

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs with a little laugh, “It just sounded cool.”

“You’re right. Neo-nuclear weapons sound like a much better threat,” She giggles again and lays her head back down, and Scott wonders if she can hear the way his heart is beating like a racehorse. It must be practically pounding against his ribcage.

They go back to swaying and she sinks further into him, and he tries to relax as well, but all of the champagne he’d had earlier seems to be catching up to him. Suddenly he feels lightheaded and dizzy – his emotions bubbling to the surface all at once and threatening to burst out of him.

She’s just so great. So funny and playful and kind and clever. He loves every moment they spend together.

“I like you so much, T,” He says suddenly, the words slipping past his lips in a hushed whisper against her forehead before he can stop them. But once they’re out, he finds he doesn’t regret them. He does like her. He _loves_ her. And she should know how much.

Tessa laughs and tangles her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, nuzzling him a little, “I like you, too.”

His stomach drops at the tone of her voice, light and airy and unencumbered by _feelings_. She thinks he’s just being affectionate. That it’s the liquor talking. That this is nothing but a friend drunkenly telling his friend that he likes her. But it’s so much more than that.

“No –“

“Tessa, there you are,” Kate walks up to them just as he was about to say, _I really, REALLY, like you_ , and Tessa steps away from him to greet her mother, leaving him feeling cold and bereft without her body heat surrounding him. “I need you to – have you been drinking?”

Tessa’s hands fly up to her cheeks and Scott notices that they do look a little pink, and part of him hopes it’s because of him, not just because of the alcohol.

“Only two glasses,” Tessa says somewhat defensively.

“Oh,” Kate pauses, looking back and forth between him and Tessa suspiciously, and Scott wonders just how much she saw before she decided to interrupt them. Would Kate mind losing _both_ her daughters to Moir boys? He hopes not. “You just seem flushed. I need you to come help me prepare the employee gifts so people can pick them up when they’re ready to leave.”

“Of course, Mom.”

“Scott, try not to serenade us with any Queen this year,” Kate turns to him with a warm smile and twinkling eyes, her warning clearly teasing, but Scott ducks his head with a blush.

Will no one ever let him live that down?

“I’ll try.”

Tessa follows her mother away and Scott watches her go, wishing for so many things. Wishing she could stay in his arms longer, wishing he had worked up the nerve to say how he really feels, wishing he knew if he had even the smallest chance with her.

 

He spends his time chatting with various department heads and nearly getting swept up in another rousing vocal performance with the I.T. guys. Trennt suggested _Footloose_ this time, which is his Achilles’ heel, no pun intended, but he’d managed to have enough common sense to say no this year. The last thing he needs is Tessa getting a video of that as well and having _two_ things to blackmail him with.

He’d been hoping to be able to dance some more before the night ended or maybe convince her to go outside and get some fresh air on the balcony, but when an hour passes and she doesn’t return and the guests start to dwindle he begins to lose hope. Whatever her mother had needed help with was clearly more labor intensive than he’d anticipated.

Scott finds her mom a little later walking back into the main room from one of the hallways, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed together like she’s deep in thought about something. She looks worried.

“Hey, Ms. Virtue, have you seen Tess?”

“Yes, she’s –“ Kate starts and then seems to change her mind about what she was going to say mid-sentence, “She wasn’t feeling well and she went home early. Will we be seeing you at Christmas Eve dinner?”

"Yes,” Scott answers slowly. He has the distinct feeling that she’s hiding something. Why the sudden change of topic? What is she nervous about? “I’ll be there with the rest of my family.”

“Excellent. We look forward to having all of you. Excuse me.” Kate rushes off in another direction, leaving Scott standing there utterly baffled by her behavior.

Kate Virtue is a busy woman, and he’s used to only having short conversations with her, but she’s always _kind_. Always talks like she has all the time in the world, even if she can only give you thirty seconds. But her demeanor changed the second he mentioned Tessa.

Something isn’t right, of that he feels pretty certain. If she wasn’t feeling well, why didn’t she ask him for a ride home? She knows he’ll always take care of her when she needs it, has called on him plenty of other times, so what’s different now?

What’s changed in the last two hours that’s made her so upset?

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shoots her a text. Surely she’ll tell him whatever it is. She always does. And once he knows, he’ll help her fix it.

 

****

 

She's hiding. Tessa is hiding from him. She hasn’t answered any of his calls or texts, she stays in her office behind a closed door whenever she’s at work, and when he’d shown up at her house, intending to demand she tell him what he’s done wrong, she hadn’t answered the door – even though he could hear the TV inside. _Pride & Prejudice_. A sure sign that she’s upset about something, but what that is, he has no idea.

Unless… unless she’d guessed what he was about to say while they danced and now she’s avoiding him because she doesn’t want to hear it. Maybe he’d totally read her wrong. Maybe telling her how he feels is the last thing she wants, because she doesn’t feel the same way, and now she’s avoiding him because she doesn’t want to break his heart by telling him she only sees him as a friend.

The prospect is devastating, but not seeing her is worse, and Scott’s determined to talk to her. She can’t hide from him today. It’s Christmas Eve and the Virtues and Moirs traditionally spend the day together now that Charlie and Jordan are married. It keeps their siblings from having to choose which family to spend the holiday with, and since everyone genuinely likes each other a lot and Kate and Alma have become best friends over the years, it works out well.

Well, it works out for everybody else, at least. Scott’s on edge almost from the minute he arrives with his family at the Virtue house. Feeling uncomfortable there for the first time in almost twenty years.

Kate is as gracious a host as ever. Kevin and Casey greet him with a punch on the arm and a noogie, respectively, and Jordan gives him a hug and comments on his and Charlie’s last hockey game, but Tessa lets herself be lead away by the children the second they’re through the door without so much as a hello shouted in his direction.

A very bad sign.

When Kate announces that it’s time for dinner and they all head into the dining room, Scott takes his customary seat just left of the middle of the table, which where Tessa normally sits, but no sooner has his ass hit the chair than he sees her take the seat at the end of the opposite side. A choice that does not go unnoticed by either of their families.

“Did you and Scottie have a fight or something?” Kevin jokes, garnering a few disbelieving laughs from some of their family members, all of whom are looking back and forth between him and Tessa with blatant curiosity at this sudden change in tradition.

“What? No!” Tessa practically shouts, but she refuses to look at him, and Scott’s heart sinks even further. “I just never get the chance to talk to Tessa since she and Danny moved to Alberta, and I want a chance to catch up. That’s all.”

She’s overly defensive and skittish all during the meal, looking like a horse ready to bolt at the first opportunity, and he hates it. If she doesn’t love him, he can accept that. Hell, he’s been living with that assumption for twelve years, it won’t break him.

(Okay, it might break him for a little while, but he’d recover. She’s too important to him.)

But this? It’s unbearable. Why can’t she just say the words and get it over with? Surely that would be easier than dragging it out and building it up even more – heightening the dread and awkwardness between them to the point it feels like an entity unto itself hanging over their heads while their family chatters and eats blissfully unaware around them.

“Gramma, can we watch Moana now?” Poppy asks as soon as her plate is empty, tugging on Kate’s sleeve, and Kate smiles and nods.

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, darling. Do you want to help me unwrap the new DVD and put it in?”

Poppy nods and Kate takes her hand and leads her towards the family room, beckoning for everyone else to follow, “I think we should all watch it together while we digest all this food.”

“Emmaline really needs her nap,” Jordan says apologetically to Charlie, “But you go with them, hon, I’ll put her down.”

“I’ll do it!” Tessa volunteers, “Let me take her. You guys go enjoy the movie.”

"Are you sure, Tess?”

“Of course! We could use some aunt-niece bonding time.”

“Thank you!” Jordan hands the baby to Tessa who gathers her up lovingly in her arms and departs towards the formal living room where it’ll be quieter, before following everyone else to go watch the movie.     

“You coming, Scott?” Charlie asks when he notices that Scott hasn’t moved to follow them, his gaze still lingering on the doorway Tessa just went through. Taking Emmaline was another blatant attempt to avoid spending time with him, he just knows. They've always shared the smaller couch during family movie nights, but she obviously doesn't want to do that now.

“Nah, I’m gonna take care of some of the dishes first.”

“Suit yourself.” Charlie shrugs and disappears, and Scott starts gathering up all the plates and silverware and prepping them for the dishwasher.

It’s relatively easy work and he gets it done quickly, leaving the bigger dishes to soak in the sink, and when he’s done he wipes off the countertops, double-checks that everything is cleaned up, and then sighs and shoves his pruney hands into his pockets.

He can’t put it off any longer. He and Tess are going to have to talk about this. Now.

With everyone else is in the family room watching the movie, it’s the perfect opportunity for some privacy, and probably the only chance they’ll get like this all weekend. And there’s no way he’s going to put this off and try to have this conversation at work next week.

“Here you are,” He leans against the doorway to the living room with an affected casualness that he knows she can see right through. They know each other too well for her not to be able to tell that it’s an act, and he can see it the instant her shoulders tense up and she freezes.

"Here I am,” Tessa shrugs with one shoulder, mimicking his attempt at nonchalance, but doing a piss-poor job of hiding the fright in her eyes when she looks at him, horrified at having been cornered. It’s a look that will probably haunt Scott for years.

What could he have done to make her _afraid_ of him?

Scott walks slowly over to where she is and sits down on the edge of the couch beside her, leaving some space between them and leaning forward to stroke Emmaline’s cheek before taking the baby’s hand, watching as all of her tiny fingers curl instinctively around one of his.

“You look nice today, T,” He says quietly, glancing at her before looking back at Emmy, hoping that if he starts slow and simple, easing into the conversation with an innocuous compliment, she’ll know this conversation isn’t something to be scared of. “I like your dress.”

“You do?” She asks, mouth dropping open in surprise, clearly not expecting him to open with that.

“Mmhmm, it’s soft.” It’s such a relief to see the fear in her eyes disappear for a moment that Scott runs his hand up and down the burgundy velvet sleeve in an attempt to further soothe her, but she flinches and pulls her arm away.

Pain lances through his chest at the rejection and he leans backwards, putting distance between them. Is she so upset with him that she won’t even let him touch her in the most innocent way? The thought makes him want to throw-up. They’ve never not been physically affectionate. Not since they got over their initial childhood awkwardness when they were kids and he kissed her at the Ilderton carnival. It’s a natural byproduct of all their years dancing intimately together, one that he cherishes.

“What’s wrong, Tess? You’ve been so reclusive this last week, I’ve hardly seen you.”

"I’ve been at work,” She says defensively, trying to excuse herself, but he can’t let her get away with it. They have to talk about this, as painful as it is for both of them, or how can they repair their friendship?

“I know, with your office door closed. Kaetlyn and I are worried about you.” He hopes the mention of her assistant will encourage her to open up more, and she seems touched at the concern.

“You’ve talked to Kaetlyn about me?”

“Yes. She said you didn’t seem quite like yourself and I agree. So what gives, kiddo? Are you mad at me?”

There it is. He’s asked the question, and now he wants to disappear. Fade into the couch and become part of the cotton, rather than hear her say what must be about to say. That she doesn’t love him. Can’t love him. That they’ll never be more than friends. Maybe that they can’t even be that now that she knows his true feelings.

“At you?” She looks up in open astonishment and Scott’s forehead creases as he raises his eyebrows at her. Is she trying to deny it? She sounds genuinely surprised at the question, but how could she be? “I’m not angry at you.”

The benefit of knowing Tessa so well is that he knows when she’s being honest, and he sighs with relief at the conviction he hears in her words. She isn’t angry at him, so maybe their friendship isn’t ruined, after all. “Then what is it?”  

“Ryan…” Tessa starts, swallowing thickly, and Scott’s thrown for another loop. What does he have to do with their relationship? “Ryan kissed me at the party.”

What the _fuck!?_

That was the absolute last thing he expected her to say and he sits up straighter, his jaw clenching and unclenching a few times while he tries to find the words to speak. “Ryan Semple? Our client, Ryan?”

“Yes.” The look on her face adds the silent _duh_ , and she snaps at him. “What other Ryan do we know?”

“I just want to make sure I don’t punch the wrong guy,” Scott grits out, hoping it sounds more joking than he feels. He might genuinely do it. If the guy forced himself on her, if he pressured her in any way, then he’s a dead man. Client or not.

“Scott, you can’t! He could press charges or make accusations against the company or -“ She starts rambling, building up to a full-blown freak out, but Scott covers her mouth with his hand and stop to reassure her.

“I want to, but I won’t. I know technically you work for him, but that doesn’t give him the right to assault you! We could press charges right back if he even tried.”

Scott drops his hand from her mouth to her shoulder, his thumb rubbing soothing circles just above her clavicle, and when she leans into the comfort of his touch for support all the knots that had been building in his stomach the past week finally loosen.

_She doesn’t hate me_ , he thinks with something akin to glee. Here he’d been panicking – making himself sick – all week over something that hadn’t even crossed her mind.

They seriously need to work on their communication.

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just a kiss, however unwelcome.”

“Tess, I’ve known you a long time,” He reminds her with a laugh, his thumb tracing a line up to her jaw and back in one long caress, “I’ve seen you like this before. Hiding and withdrawn and pale. I remember how it was after Seth McColl tried to grope you in grade ten.”

“You actually did punch him,” Tessa remembers with a small smile, turning her knees to face him better and sighing.

“Fuck yes, I did,” Scott says proudly, “And I’ll punch Ryan, too, if you want. Inevitable lawsuit be damned.” He’d face all the lawsuits in the world, if it meant protecting her against creeps who don’t know the meaning of consent.

“You’re sweet, but no. It wasn’t the kiss that upset me, as unpleasant as it was, it’s the fact that I should have seen it coming. I’ve been so blind. You told me I was being dumb about this just last month, but I refused to see it.”

Oh. All this time she’s been avoiding him because she didn’t want him to say _I told you so_. It’s so ridiculous, he could laugh if he wasn’t so relieved.

“Since when do you listen to me?” He teases, coaxing a small smile from her, “I was wrong. You weren’t being dumb, you just wanted to make Kaetlyn happy. This isn’t your fault, Tess. You just… always see the best in people, even when it isn’t there.”

“So I’m naïve and blind. Great,” She rolls her eyes, but Scott shakes his head. She’s got this all wrong, and if she thinks he’s going to rub it in and make fun of her for having her heart in the right place, then she’s wrong about that, too.

“That’s not what I mean at all. Now come on, you might have been wrong, but at least you were trying to do something right. The good intentions were there.”

“But I should have noticed the signs,” She insists, apparently unwilling to let him make her feel better, “It’s supposed to be my job. And if I can mess up something like this, how can I trust myself to do it right in the future?”

That brings him up short. It sounds like she’s been asking herself this question a lot, and he’s nervous about her answer. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m going to give up matchmaking,” She announces suddenly, but without a doubt in her voice, and Scott leans back in open shock. There’s no way she’s serious right now. Tessa _lives_ for matchmaking. She loves it. One mistake can’t be the reason she’s giving up.

“What? Forever?”

“I don’t know about forever,” Tessa concedes, “But at least for right now. I need to take some time to adjust and regroup after this. My perfect record is shattered and now a dear friend is going to have her heart broken. I think I need to take a step back and reevaluate. We have plenty of other work to keep the business going without this part of it.”

“I know we do. I’m not worried about that. I’m just worried about you – are you going to be okay?”

“I will be,” She nods, reaching out with her free hand and placing it on his knee with a squeeze, “Thank you for being such a good friend and checking up on me.”

“Of course, T," He says, mouth curving upwards into a small smile, "Anything for my best friend.” 

He wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into a side hug that she sinks into with ease, repositioning Emmaline so that she’s still supported while Tessa lays against him, and Scott drops a quick kiss to the top of her head.

He considers himself lucky that she isn’t mad at him about his secret feelings, but he decides to keep them on the backburner anyway. At least for right now. It’s obvious that she’s undergone a pretty big emotional upheaval, one significant enough to make her change her business, and now is not the time to bring up another potentially life-changing topic. What she needs is his friendship while she makes these adjustments, and he’s happy to give it to her.

He can wait a little longer. They have all the time in the world.

 


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suzanne has a problem and Scott finds a way to help fix it. A romantic rival arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers chapters 6 & 7 of EKOM, which is why it's longer than the other chapters. I hope you like it!

** hash marks **

****

The café is buzzing with its usual lunchtime crowd, the happy chatter of friends and family enjoying a rare snow-free Saturday in January. It’s not fancy, but it’s one of Scott’s favorite little lunch places in London and one of his and Suzanne’s favorite meet-up spots. A tradition they try to uphold at least monthly, if not more often.

“So,” Suzanne starts as she looks over the colored papers taped to the wall that serve as a menu, each one with a different item and its ingredients printed on it in bold Comic Sans, “Any new year’s resolutions?”

“Oh, the usual. Go to the gym more,” Scott pretends to sigh and pushes his flat stomach out as far as it will go, patting it with an over-exaggerated pout, and Suzanne shoves him lightly on the arm.

“Oh stop. I meant something real. Something you actually need to change.”

“Not really,” He shrugs and leans in closer to analyze the differences between the BBQ chicken burrito and the pesto ham melt, his stomach rumbling loudly and tempting him to order both, “What about you?”

He tosses the question back to his friend with practiced ease to get the pressure off of himself, pushing away any thoughts of confessions and green eyes. He can’t exactly tell Suzanne that his real resolution is to finally tell Tessa about his feelings. Somehow he’s certain it would jinx it, and it doesn't seem right to tell somebody else before he tells Tess. Besides, he figures three hundred and sixty five days should be enough time to work up the nerve, so she’ll know all about it eventually.

“To always look on the bright side of life,” Suzanne accepts a sample spoon of the French Onion soup, licking her lips to make sure she doesn’t miss a single drop. Willie’s French Onion is neighborhood-famous, and even though he knows she probably won’t order it today since it's what she got last time, he can’t blame her for indulging in a taste.

“You’re one of the most optimistic people I know,” Scott chuckles in disbelief, “I mean, just look at me and Tess. You believed in us when we were just scrawny awkward kids.”

“You two were easy to believe in,” She smiles fondly, patting his cheek like he’s ten years old again, “But even I struggle sometimes when faced with trials and tribulations. Optimism is important and something we have to always strive for.”

"That’s good advice. I think I’ll make that my resolution, too.” He grins. A little optimism never hurt and it might help him with his confidence.

Scott walks up to the counter to place his order with the tiny teenager working the till. The kid must be at least fifteen since he’s working here, but he doesn’t look older than ten or eleven, and Scott feels a moment of painful solidarity with him. “I’ll get the pesto ham melt and a water cup. What do you want, Suze?”

“Oh, don’t be silly. You’re not paying for me.” She pushes his wallet back towards his pocket, blonde ringlets bobbing wildly as she shakes her head, and Scott gently, but firmly, insists. 

“Of course I am. It’s the least I can do for the best dance teacher in the world.”

“You’re too good to me. Are you sure about this? I’d hate to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden if I’m offering,” Scott argues affectionately. As if she could ever be a burden to anybody. Maybe she can be eccentric sometimes, and sure she can rattle off facts about her niece until she’s blue in the face, but being annoyed by Suzanne is like being annoyed by sunflowers. Impossible. “Of course. Order whatever you want.”

“The cranberry turkey wrap,” She hesitates, her eyes drifting over to the dessert display longingly, and Scott laughs and finishes for her.

“And a couple of your blueberry lemon cheesecake cookies.”

“Are you sure?”

“Shh! Don’t make me order extras for you to take home, because I will.”

"I feel silly. Wasn’t it just yesterday you were threatening to pull the fire alarm to get out of class? Now you're conquering the business world and paying for my food.”

“Feels like I'm still a kid sometimes,” Scott chuckles along with her, carefully balancing their tray of food as they make their way to a table by the window, “But then I’ll wake up with an achy back or strain my neck doing something simple and remember I’m nearing thirty.”

“I know that feeling all too well. We’re getting old,” She sighs and for the first time Scott notices the lines around her eyes, the slight sag in her shoulders like she’s carrying a heavy weight, and the way her face doesn't have quite its usual glow. Something isn’t quite right, but he doesn’t want to push her or make her uncomfortable.

“I am. You haven’t aged a day.”

“Oh stop. Now I _know_ that’s not true.” Suzanne throws her straw wrapper at him and Scott catches it and crumples it up with a laugh. It’s something Tessa would have done and he knows this is where she learned it. “I’m sorry Tessa couldn’t make it today.”

“Me too, but you know Tess. Always taking on the work of five people.” Scott tries to laugh, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s not going to lie, he’d been pretty disappointed when Tessa had said she couldn’t meet them for lunch _again_. Not disappointed for himself, but for Suzanne. She loves Tessa almost like a daughter and he hates the disappointment in her eyes every time she cancels.

“Out bettering the community.” Suzanne smiles without an ounce of resentment, proving once again that she is one of the best creatures in the world.

“Speaking of making the community better, how’s the school? Still love teaching all those kids? I bet they adore you.”

Suzanne has been teaching dance classes at the Highbury Public School since retiring from training professional ballroom dancers, and as far as Scott can tell she traded one true calling for another. She seems to be gifted at whatever she turns her hand to, and he’s pretty confident that the school isn’t paying her nearly what she’s worth.

“It’s good,” Suzanne hesitates, picking at her food – mostly pushing it around her plate rather than eating it.

“What’s wrong?”

“The school board, what else?” Suzanne sighs and Scott reaches out and pats her hand sympathetically. She's been fighting the school board for years on everything from costumes to after-school practice space to class sizes, and Scott's heard many tales about their misdeeds. 

“Ah, your old nemesis.”

“They think the funds allocated to the arts programs are a waste of money and they’re threatening to cut all of the classes unless we the teachers can find a way to supplement the school’s income.”

“But that’s crazy!” Scott shouts, clamping his mouth shut when he notices a few people staring at him before proceeding at a much lower volume, “How can they expect you guys to come up with that kind of money?”

“I don’t know. We’ve had a few meetings to discuss it, but so far none of us has found a way to raise that much, that soon.”

She looks so defeated, like she's accepted her fate, and it stirs something inside of Scott. Something that balks at injustice and demands to fight back, especially in defense of a friend.

"How long do you have?”      

“Two months, then they’ll make the announcement that the classes won’t be offered next year.”

“That can’t happen. I won’t let it.”

"I appreciate your support, Scott,” She shakes her head, incredulous, clearly already dismissing whatever he’s about to say, “But what can you do?”

"I’ll think of something.”

Whatever it takes. Even if he has to stay up all day and all night coming up with suggestions and Googling fundraiser ideas, or hell, even figuring out how to start a GoFundMe if he has to. He’s not going to let her lose her job or let those kids lose their arts programs. The arts are a vital component of any education, and he's proof enough of the positive effect they can have on someone's life.

“I can’t ask you to do that. You have your own job to think about and that keeps you busy enough.”

“Suze,” Scott gently reprimands her, “When will you learn to accept that you aren’t asking. I’m _offering_. Give me a chance to help you.”

“Well, if it won’t be too much of a bother…” Her voice trails off, still uncertain, and Scott smiles his best, brightest, most reassuring smile at her.

“Not at all. I’m happy to do whatever I can.”

Her eyes are wet with tears when she looks back at him, a grateful smile playing at her lips as her hand covers his with a warm squeeze, “Thank you, Scott.”

“You’re welcome.” He squeezes back, “Now, tell me what else is new.”

“Oh! Did I mention my niece's latest letter from Cambodia?”

 

****

 

Monday mornings demand coffee like dictators demand loyalty, and Scott gives in without a fight. If he’s lucky, Tessa or Kaetlyn will have put on a fresh pot that morning when they came in, although he can’t be sure they’re even here yet. Both of their desks had been disturbingly empty when he’d walked past them this morning, which isn't a good sign for his coffee deprivation.

“You’re wonderful, and I am so, so sorry for the hurt I’ve caused.”

Scott freezes outside the break room with one foot in the air. That was definitely Tessa’s voice, and it sounds like she’s having a serious conversation with whoever she’s talking to. A conversation she probably wouldn't appreciate being interrupted by his sudden presence.

“I’ll be alright,” Kaetlyn replies, “Although, I guess I should stop wearing this.”

He hears the metallic clinking of jewelry and spins around on his heel to go back to his office and give them their privacy. Coffee can wait until they’re done.

“You know what we need?” Tessa says suddenly, sounding impulsive, and Scott gives in to curiosity and waits another second to hear what newfangled idea she’s come up with now, “We need a new project. Something to take our minds off this whole thing.”

Here it is, the perfect opportunity to bring up his conversation with Suzanne falling straight into his lap. This couldn't be working out better if he'd planned it. He’d been mulling over her predicament all weekend and he _might_ have an idea how to help, but he needs Tessa – and it sounds like she needs a suggestion.

“I actually have an idea for that,” He announces, whistling innocently as he joins them and hoping they don't think he was skulking about in the hallway.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Tessa asks right away with a frown, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, and Scott playfully arches an eyebrow at her to hide his guilt at having heard even the smallest part of their private conversation.

“Were you talking loudly in the _communal_ break room?” He shoots back with a smirk, and she purses her lips and shakes her head in exasperation.

"What’s your idea?” Kaetlyn asks him with a hopeful smile, looking desperately in need of some sort of distraction, and Scott knows she must have been talking to Tessa about the Ryan situation – a conversation he’s glad he missed the most of. He doesn’t envy Tessa having to break that news to the sweet girl. He also doesn't really want to listen to anymore talk about that jackass if he can help it. 

_Good riddance._

"I had lunch with our old coach Suzanne last Saturday – we try to meet up once a month and Tessa was _supposed_ to be there too,” He gently chastises, and Tessa ducks her head - hopefully learning the error of her ways and mentally promising to show up to the next lunch, “And she mentioned the school she works for, Highbury Public School, is struggling for funding. The board is threatening to slash all of their arts programs, including Suzanne’s dance classes, if they can’t find a new source of income. So I was thinking we could throw a –“

“Fundraiser!” Tessa finishes the thought for him, clasping her hands together and looking reinvigorated. Energy visibly surging through her at the prospect of a project. “Scott, you’re a genius! We can invite all of my mother’s friends and anyone else affluent in the London area. Kaetlyn, start making a list of all of our biggest business connections.”

“I knew you’d jump at this,” Scott grins satisfactorily and Tessa smiles back. He knew he could count on her help, and it’s nice to be proved right.

“This is perfect. Exactly the thing to pull us out of our funk. No more moping or sadness, or moping about sadness. It’s a new direction. Let’s go to work right away! Kaetlyn,” Tessa gestures wildly in the direction of her office, “Grab some notebooks and pens. I’ll get my iPad. We need a theme and a venue and a date and why are you looking at me like that?”

Scott freezes. Is he looking at her a particular way? He hadn’t meant to be, but now that she’s mentioned it he can feel himself smiling giddily at her. Probably looking a little star struck, too. He’d taken Kaetlyn’s place on the couch beside her after she’d ran off to gather Tessa’s things, and he can’t help the feeling of pride and affection surging towards his best friend.

“It’s just nice to see some life back in you. I like when you get all fired up about something. You care enough to get involved – to help people. You’re good at this.” A blush spreads across Tessa’s cheeks and down her chest, dipping beneath the collar of her dress, and Scott eyes follow it briefly – idly wondering how far down it goes - before he forces them back to her face. For once she seems speechless, and he smiles warmly, “You don’t have to say anything, kiddo, it’s just the truth.”

He reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, lightly caressing her jaw with his thumb before dropping his hand as soon as Kaetlyn walks back into the room. “Let’s get to work! No time like the present, eh?”

Tessa shakes herself from whatever stupor she’d been under, and Scott’s heart stutters hopefully inside his chest, aching to believe that she’d been affected by him – however briefly. It's just one more step forward for them, and he smiles to himself.

“Okay, team, let’s talk fundraising.” She opens one of the notebooks and clicks the pen, poised to start writing. “I’ll schedule a lunch meeting with Suzanne to talk all this over with her later this week and get her approval before we finalize anything, but in the meantime – what should our theme be?”

“I was thinking we could do a childhood themed lunch. Peanut butter sandwiches, carrot sticks, that sort of thing,” Kaetlyn suggests, and Scott nods along with Tessa.

“That’s actually a great idea. Remind them what it’s like to be a kid – pull at their heartstrings so that they’ll loosen their purse string.” Tessa writes it down, giggling at her own joke, and Scott groans and shoves her shoulder.

“Please don’t make jokes like that at the fundraiser.”

“I thought it was quite a clever slogan, actually,” Tessa shoots back, jabbing his thigh with her pen, and Kaetlyn laughs at them both.

“I like it!”

Tessa grins triumphantly at Scott when she gets Kaetlyn’s approval, and a wicked smirk spreads across his face. He knows the perfect way to flip the tables on her.

“It would be a good opportunity to showcase Suzanne’s jams, too. What’s more classic than a PB & J?” He snatches the pen out of her hand and writes the idea down on Tessa’s paper, satisfied with his method of revenge when she grimaces.

“What’s wrong with her jams?” Kaetlyn asks, picking up on the subtext. Or perhaps, overt text, given the way Tessa’s nose has scrunched up as high as possible. Her opinion on Suzanne's jams isn’t exactly hard to guess.

“Nothing,” Tessa says slowly, sounding about as unconvincing as she looks, “Just… some of her flavor combinations can be a bit… jarring.”

“Yeah, that strawberry peach jalapeno she brought in two months ago was a bit odd, I’ll admit. My taste buds are still recovering.” Scott makes a face and sticks his tongue out, earning another giggle from Kaetlyn.

“If we can get her to promise to only bring traditional flavors, though, then I’ll admit that would be great publicity for her.” Tessa taps her pen against her mouth thoughtfully, and Scott’s smile in jest transforms into a genuine one as another burst of pride shoots through him. He loves that he’s turning their joke into an honest idea, and another way to help Suzanne to boot. She really is so good at this.

“So no onion banana kiwi then?” He teases once more, just because he can, laughing when Tessa winces at the memory. That might have been the smelliest of all the jams Suzanne has ever made.

“Probably not that one,” She agrees.

 

 

Time flies by as they go over the rest of the plans for the fundraiser, and Scott has a blast watching Tessa and Kaetlyn bounce ideas off each other like they’re center court at Wimbledon.

It’s amazing how much Kaetlyn has grown in the past few months, and before he can blink they’ve got almost the whole fundraiser planned and ready to be implemented. It’s probably the most successful morning they’ve ever had in the past two years, and that’s saying something given Tessa’s work ethic. Give it a few more months, and the two women will be an unstoppable event planning machine.

“Hello?” A familiar woman’s voice calls out from the foyer, interrupting Scott as he was trying to talk about finances for the fundraiser (Tessa’s mind was wandering while he did – he could tell), and she jumps up at the sound of their mutual friend. Obviously eager for the distraction from accounts and income to debt ratios. 

“Midori’s here! Great work, guys, but let’s put a pause on this and come back to it later.”

She practically jogs out of the room, leaving Scott and Kaetlyn to clean up and organize the handwritten notes and loose papers covering the table that she’d left in her wake before leisurely following after her, and when they emerge in the foyer Scott stops cold.

Tessa is hugging a man. A man Scott knows all too well.

“Andrew Poje, as I live and breathe.”

Scott can hear the grin in her voice as she greets him, but for once Tessa’s smile doesn’t fill him with mutual joy. He can’t say he’s as excited to see Midori’s cousin as she is. 

Or at all.

Andrew gives her a dopey grin, his perfectly coiffed hair artfully falling over his forehead like a superman curl, “Tessa Virtue. The last time I saw you was in that closet your junior year at Western. How have you been? You’re certainly as stunning as ever.”

_He’s just being friendly_ , Scott tries to tell himself, but he’s taken back to that night – looking for Tessa to see if she wanted to be his beer pong partner and seeing her emerge from that closet with mussed hair and smeared lipstick. Jealousy licking at his veins with hot flames and making him clench his teeth so hard he gave himself a headache and had to go home early.

She’d never actually dated Andrew, thank god, but it didn’t help that he saw Andrew leave with another girl just a few minutes later, one guess as to where they were headed, and the righteous rage on behalf of Tessa’s feelings still hasn’t fully faded, even after all these years.

She sounds giddy and delighted to see him though, and it bugs him. He knows it shouldn’t – the two of them are friends and Tessa’s allowed to have whatever friends she wants – but there’s something so… careless about Andrew. He breezes through life, coming and going as he pleases, never really forming any meaningful attachments or taking the time to care. And yet always avoiding the consequences of his actions.

Scott's just feeling protective. That's all it is.

“And you’re still as much of a flirt as you ever were,” Tessa throws back, “What are you doing here?”

“Andrew’s just returned from Cambodia,” Midori explains, nudging her cousin’s elbow and rolling her eyes, “And he wanted to come say hello as soon as possible.”

Andrew smiles without shame or embarrassment at Midori’s comment, and Scott grits his teeth, feeling a familiar headache begin to form in his temples. “Well Midori kept telling me all these stories while I was gone about how you set her up with Alex and how you’re taking over the world, and I had to see it for myself. Looks like all those psychology classes you took ‘just for fun’ are paying off.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re doing alright,” Tessa replies, but even distracted like he is Scott can hear the sadness in her voice. It’s going to be a while yet before she’ll be over the failure with Ryan. “But Cambodia! That’s exotic and exciting. What were you doing there?”

“I was on a medical internship helping bring basic care to impoverished communities there.”

That comes as a pretty big surprise. The idea of Andrew willingly giving up his creature comforts and upending his life for a few years of charity work is a shocking one. One that doesn’t quite fit in with the profile Scott’s done up in his head. Maybe he isn’t quite as selfish as Scott thought... although part of him still suspects that there must have been an ulterior motive influencing his decision to go.

“That’s amazing! What a noble cause.” Tessa sounds just as surprised as Scott feels, and he mentally crows in triumph. _Take that, Andrew, she can see through your bullshit, too._

“It is. And it made my aunt happy. She threatened to disinherit me if I didn’t do something useful with my bio-medical degree.”

And there it is. Motive.

Everyone else laughs at the joke, but Scott knows that Andrew wasn’t really kidding. Everyone knows about his wealthy aunt who provides everything for him, preventing him from _actually_ becoming an adult and a contributing member of society. It fits that she’s the source of his attempt at being a good Samaritan, too. 

“That would be a tragedy,” He deadpans, earning a swift elbow in the ribs from Tessa and a silent _be nice_ mouthed at him with an accompanying glare.

“Scott, nice to see you,” Andrew says in return, ignoring Scott's comment and thrusting his hand out - giving Scott no choice but to shake it, an obvious challenge lighting up his dark brown eyes, “Still dating that blonde?”

He wasn’t expecting that question. It's been so many years since then, he never thinks of it now, and in the time it takes him to formulate a response Tessa is already answering for him. “Kaitlyn? Thankfully, no. That was a very short-lived romance, thank god.”

Scott almost laughs at the obvious relief in her voice, barely managing to press his lips together and keep it in. Tessa’s hatred of Kaitlyn – not that she’d call it that, of course – is famous in their social circle and he knows the short time he’d dated the blonde had bothered her to no end, even if she hadn’t said a word about it at the time.

“Oh, so you guys don’t hear from her anymore? Wasn’t she your roommate, Midori?”

“She was,” Midori answers him, “And I still talk to her from time to time, but Tessa… not so much, no.”

“Ah, I see,” Andrew smirks understandingly at Tessa, and she hurries to change the topic.

“Why are we wasting time talking about Scott’s old mistakes? How long are you in town for?”

Scott wouldn't call Kaitlyn a  _mistake_ exactly. They'd gotten along fine and parted as friends. But that's an argument with Tessa he knows he wouldn't win.

“I’m not sure yet. It depends what I can find to keep me here,” Andrew winks and Scott’s forced to watch as Tessa blushes - actually _blushes –_ at his stupid attempt at flirting with her. Can't she see right through him and his inane attempt to be charming? “Speaking of which, we’ve come to steal you for lunch, if you haven’t eaten.”

“Nope! Steal me away,” Tessa smiles and Scott seriously weighs the benefits of walking outside and waiting for the next bus to run him over. “Let me just get my purse and we’ll go.”

“Tess, we were kind of in the middle of something,” Scott reminds her, ignoring the way both Andrew and Midori are looking at him. One daring and the other calculating, both seeing through him a lot more than he’s comfortable with. Hopefully they chalk up his behavior to being a concerned business partner worried about work, instead of a man warring with jealousy that he hopes is unfounded and is desperately trying to suppress.

“If you need to work, Tess, we understand,” Midori says kindly, but Tessa shakes her head and finishes putting on her coat, accepting Andrew’s help with it before Scott has the chance to offer. He doesn’t like watching another man do what has been his job for almost twenty years, but he breathes through his nose and forces himself to let it go.

_It's not a big deal. It's fine._

He’s just being nice. It doesn’t mean anything.

"No,” Tessa waves her off, “We’re just working on planning a fundraiser for Suzanne, but it can wait while we eat something.”

"You’re planning a fundraiser? Am I invited?” Andrew grins, straightening the collar of her coat so that it's sitting correctly.

"This is for people who are actually interested in helping Suzanne’s school,” Scott states bluntly, “It’s not just some frivolous excuse for a party.” The last thing they need is Andrew crashing their classy event and turning it into a raging keg party. In college he’d only ever visited Midori when he knew there would be some sort of rager happening on or around campus.

“I get that,” Andrew replies sharply, like he knows exactly what Scott thinks of him, “But what’s the harm in letting me attend? After all, I have plenty of money. I might as well spend some of it on a good cause.”

“You don’t even really know what the cause is,” Tessa points out with a laugh, not nearly as averse to the idea of him attending as Scott is.

“I know you’re involved,” Andrew tells her with another smarmy smile, oozing charm, “Which means it must be good. Mark me down as your first official benefactor.”

“Thank you, Andrew,” Tessa says as they prepare to leave, pausing to throw disapproving glance back at Scott, “I will.”

The fundraiser, only moments ago something he was looking forward to with eagerness and excitement, is now something he almost dreads. But with any luck, Andrew will find it boring and it will be the last they ever see of him. 

           

****

 

Scott walks into the school gymnasium and whistles quietly in amazement. If he didn’t know where he was, he’d never think it was inside a public school. The people Tessa hired to decorate had done an amazing job transforming the space into something on par with a fancy reception place downtown. They’d draped rolls of cream colored fabric in long lines across the ceiling, alternated with rows of twinkling fairy lights, and the table settings couldn’t be more elegant. It's perfect.

He scans the room for signs of anyone he knows, smiling when he lands on Kaetlyn already waving at him from where she’s standing with Tessa.

He waves back and Tessa turns around to face him too, looking beautiful in her lacy yellow dress that accentuates all of her curves and shows off her strong calves (not that there’s anything she could ever _not_ look beautiful in), but her smile at first seeing him falls quickly into a look of absolute horror. He's almost tempted to look over his shoulder and make sure there isn't a monster walking in behind him. 

Scott does a quick mental scan of his outfit, looking down at the black suit from Charlie’s wedding that he’d dug out for the occasion and smoothing the red silk tie against his chest. Surely she doesn’t disapprove of his outfit. He even shined his shoes!

“What on earth did you do to your hair?” She asks in dismay the second he reaches where she and Kaetlyn are standing, and Scott reaches up to run his hand through the dark locks in a self-conscious gesture before remembering all the gel he’d put in it tonight. Of everything she could have complained about, his hair is the last thing he expected.

“What’s wrong with it?” He knows he used a bit more of the gooey stuff than he’d intended, but it seemed no matter what he did it wouldn’t lay right, so he’d kept adding more until it seemed presentable and, more importantly, professional. He was trying to make her happy! And now she's upset?

“You put gel in it.” She states, knitting her eyebrows together and frowning so deeply he’s genuinely worried her face might be stuck like that permanently.

“So? This is a very important event, as you reminded me no less than twenty-seven times _this week._ I didn’t think my usual flow was appropriate.”

Isn’t this what she’d wanted? She’d made it very clear that they all needed to take this fundraiser seriously, and Scott,, in turn, had taken her wishes seriously and tried to fulfill them. It stings a little to have her disapprove of his efforts so wholeheartedly. If he'd known she would react like this he wouldn't have touched his hair at all.

“So you picked this!? A little bit of gel would have been fine to keep it more controlled and give it style, but this is too much.”

“Well,” Scott folds his arms over his chest defensively, stretching the sleeves of his tailored jacket uncomfortably tight over his shoulders and biceps, “Next time you can do it then, since you care so much.”

"I will! I’m coming over to your apartment and doing it myself before major events from now on. Clearly you can’t be trusted.”

He’s… not actually opposed to that now that he thinks about it. But to admit that would be to admit defeat, and that simply will not do. Once he wins this argument,  _then_ he'll indulge in fantasies about Tessa and all the things she could do with her hands in his hair. 

“Well you look nice, Virtch,” He gestures to her dress and smiles sarcastically, “See? That’s normally how friends greet each other. Not attacking their hairstyles right out of the gate.”

“That’s because my hair is always impeccable,” Tessa throws back at him, pointing confidently to the perfectly styled side-bun she’s currently rocking, and he can’t argue with that, either. It’s hard having a business partner who looks perfect every single moment of every single day, but he can still remember a time when it wasn’t always that way, and now seems like the perfect opportunity to remind her.

“Not true,” Scott crows in a sing-song voice, “I very clearly remember those bangs you used to have.”

“When I was ten! That doesn’t count.”

“What about when you were going through your Britney Spears phase and bleached your hair at my house so that Kate couldn’t stop you and it went orange? I think that’s worse than anything I could ever do with gel.”

“Okay, again, I was a kid. At least I didn’t shave my head like you did during your Eminem phase, Slim Shady.”

_Damn._

“You have a point there,” Scott concedes with a wince. Neither of them had been very kind to their hair in their youth, him especially. So many bad choices in the name of looking cool. “I learned my mistake.”

“Just like you have today?” She teases, cocking her head and grinning up at him, and Scott rolls his eyes, his voice heavy with sarcasm when he responds.

“I have to run all my hairstyles by Tessa Virtue, even though I’m a twenty-nine year old man and perfectly capable of doing my hair myself.”

“If that were true, this wouldn’t have happened. Here,” She takes his hand before turning towards Kaetlyn, who had been watching the exchange with avid interest, “We’ll be right back.”

She practically drags him down the hallway until she pushes a chipped faded red door open and tugs him into the little girls’ bathroom. Emphasis on _little_. It's a room with ridiculously small amenities that smells unpleasant and makes him feel huge and awkward and inclined to gag.

“Well, this is humbling,” He deadpans.

"Now hold still.” She commands, her tone brokering no room for argument, and Scott rolls his eyes and sits on the edge of the counter, watching wordlessly as she wets her fingers and starts running them through his hair to remove the excess gel.

As much as he wants to complain, or glare at her, or flick water in her face, it actually feels pretty nice, and Scott finds his eyelids falling closed against his will while she works - his head tilting closer to her of its own accord. As if his body has a will of its own and is insistent on drawing closer to hers.

If abusing hair gel means this is the result, then he might have to start wearing it more often.

He starts humming a song to cover up any accidental moans that might slip out and avoid embarrassing himself, repeating some tune that’s lingering in the back of his head from somewhere, and Tessa laughs.

“Is that Justin Bieber?”

“No, definitely not!” He splutters, trying to maintain his rapidly diminishing street cred at having been called out. Why couldn’t he have been humming something cool? Or at least, something not _Bieber_. Literally anything else would have been preferable.

"I think it was. I recognize Sorry when I hear it,” She taunts him, wiggling her hips a little and singing, “Is it too late now to say sorry? ‘Cause I’m missing more than just your body.”

It’s endearing, watching her move like that, and also – much to his shame – arousing. He might not care for Bieber, but he can’t deny that watching Tessa shake her ass while singing the song, especially those particular lyrics, is really working for him.

“It was playing on the radio on my way over here,” He grumbles defensively, his hands grabbing her hips and forcing her to stop dancing as he repositions her between his outstretched legs, “It got stuck in my head.”

“There’s no shame in admitting you’re a Belieber, Scott,” She grins, stroking his jaw with one of her gooey fingers and leaving a streak of gel there that he wipes off with a grimace.

“I don’t even know what that is.”

"Uh huh,” She scoffs, biting her bottom lip and going back to working on his hair, and Scott traces her hipbone through the lace with his thumb that’s still lingering on her hip – his fingers clenching tighter for a moment on the curve of her waist when her fingernails accidentally scratch his scalp. If he shuts his eyes, he can almost imagine they’re doing this under very different circumstances. Circumstances where he's allowed to pull her close. Allowed to slide his hands up underneath the top half of the dress (up close he can see it's more of a shirt/skirt combo). Allowed to pull her down for a kiss. 

“The fact that you do means you are one, anyway, so you can’t mock me for it.”

“Oh, I’m not mocking,” She holds her hands up in defense, and he swallows the whimper that arose at the loss of them in his hair, “I can freely admit that sometimes I enjoy cheesy pop songs.”

“I know. Most of us can only listen to _You Make My Dreams Come True_ so many times before we go crazy, but you –“

“Hey,” She flicks his ear and he flinches, too slow at jerking his head away out of reach before she attacks, “There will be no Hall and Oates bashing in my er… bathroom.”

They both look around at the completely blue tiled room, the fluorescent lights flickering eerily above, remembering where they are and immediately busting up laughing.

“Your style really has changed, T,” He manages to say between chuckles, “But as your partner, I’ll try to support you.”

Tessa starts to throw her hands over her chest in mock gratitude, but seems to remember the goo residue at the last second and hovers them over her cheeks instead, “That means so much to me, thank you. I’m honored.”

“You’re welcome!” His grin is boyish and pleased and Tessa laughs, but it’s cut off when she looks curiously down at her fingers.

“My hands are going to smell like you all night now.”

Fuck.

There she goes again. Making one of those casual comments that she’ll have forgotten by the end of the night but will stay with him forever, keeping him up until the wee hours of the early morning while his mind goes round and round overanalyzing it. There are so many implications to that sentence and his brain starts running wild with all of them.

Scott's hands dig into her waist for a second in response to her words before he forces them to relax, clearing his throat and arching an eyebrow at her as a playful smile spreads across his face, “Oh yeah? Is that a problem?”

Jokes. Jokes are safe and comfortable and an area they know well. Jokes will keep him from surging forward and kissing her with a hundred VIP guests waiting just outside the door.

“No,” She shrugs, stepping out of his grasp and leaving his hands feeling emptier than they have any right to feel, rinsing the rest of the gel off her fingers in the water, “I just wouldn’t have wasted expensive perfume if I knew it was only going to get masked by eau de Scott.”

“Eau de Scott – coming soon to a store near you,” He says in a booming announcer voice, tickling her in the ribs and making her squeal and jump away.

Tessa retaliates by flicking water at him, shooting him a look that warns there's more where that came from, and Scott holds his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. Don’t start that. We can’t go back out there sopping wet, and we both know I’d win.”

“Uh, no,” Tessa protests, “I don’t think so. Remember the Moir family water fight of twenty-thirteen? I trounced you!”

“I would prefer even to fail with honor than win by cheating,” Scott recites haughtily, remembering the quote she’d had on her fridge years ago when they were still competing. He knows it was by one of those fancy philosophers, but he can’t remember exactly who, and he knows it had meant a lot to her and that she'd instantly recognize it.

Tessa seems happy to hear the quote again, before realization dawns on her face and she looks outraged, “I did not cheat!”

"You did. You were wearing a white t-shirt, Tess.” He states, his voice trailing off suggestively, but she doesn’t seem to understand what he's trying to say and instead makes a face at him.

That shirt had haunted him that day, mocking him with its potential. Forcing him to choose between winning the water fight and protecting her modesty. It had been cruel and unfair of her to wear it to one of the biggest Moir family events of the year, when she knew it would stop him from being able to beat her.

“So?”

“A white t-shirt,” He says again, slower this time and with more enunciation, and he can tell that she gets what he’s trying to say this time.

“I had a bikini on underneath.”

She did? It must have been a tiny bikini and -  _no_.  _Don't go there Moir, now is not the time._

“Well I didn’t know that, and it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.”

“Like I would participate in a water fight with your whole family in just a white t-shirt. I’m not an exhibitionist,” She mutters, “Not in front of family, anyway.”

Scott chokes on air at the casual way she says that, trying and failing not to imagine all the semi-public places they might be able to get away with… R rated displays of affection. 

“I demand a do-over then,” He finally manages to say once he’s recovered from the shock. He just knows he’s blushing wildly, and he hopes to god she doesn’t notice and call him out on it. “You, me, my parent’s house, and a whole lot of water balloons.”

“Deal,” She sticks her hand out and enthusiastically shakes his hand, sealing the agreement, “But maybe not until summer. I don’t really want to catch hypothermia.”

“That’s a good call,” He chuckles, “But you’re still coming to Sunday dinner tomorrow, right? My mom keeps bugging me about it. She said it’s been way too long and you owe her. Somehow she’s got it in her head that I’m making you work too hard and I need you to tell her it's the other way around.”

“Oh,” Tessa hesitates, and he has a sinking feeling that he’s not going to like whatever it is she’s about to say, “I want to, but I can’t tomorrow. I’m um… going to a restaurant opening with Andrew.”

He can’t hide the disappointment he feels, even when she rushes to promise that she’ll make it to dinner next week. Is this thing with Andrew a date, or just two friends going out together? And if it’s just two friends, why didn’t she tell him about it? Based on the way she’s acting, he has a feeling she wasn’t planning on telling him at all, and that’s a very bad sign.

It must be more than casual, if she's too nervous to tell him about it. 

A  _very_ bad sign.

“Andrew, huh?” He moves away from her and over to the hand dryer – twisting the silver nozzle around so that it can work as a makeshift blow dryer and put some volume back in his hair. Using it as an excuse to avoid looking at her and having to see her expression when she talks about the other man.

“Yeah. I guess he’s a real foodie,” She has to shout to be heard over the blower, and he shuts his eyes in annoyance. _Of course he is_. Only Andrew would have such a pretentious hobby. One probably tailored to impress women.

“Sounds like fun,” He finally says once the dryer shuts off, hoping the smile he gives her looks genuine and earnest. Whatever he may privately feel, he still wants to be a good friend and she seems excited.

Tessa smooths out some of the more wild tufts of hair for him and he almost pulls his head away so that she can’t touch him, but stops at the last second. There’s no reason this should be a _thing_. Maybe he's overreacting. Maybe this will all blow over and it’ll be the only time she spends time with Andrew.

“There. Very handsome,” She smiles genuinely, letting her fingers trail over his ear before dropping her hand back down to her side, and Scott smiles softly, trying to get back some of the teasing, playful atmosphere they’d had just a few minutes ago.

“No longer embarrassed to be seen with me, kiddo?” He asks quietly, praying that the answer is no. That even though he doesn’t wear designer suits, she won’t be ashamed to point to him and call him her partner.

“I’m never embarrassed to be seen with you.” Tessa grips his hand in hers, speaking emphatically, and Scott relaxes, letting the remaining tension ease out of his shoulders. Whatever is going on with Andrew is probably nothing, and there’s no point in making a mountain out of a mole hill. Wasting time worrying about it isn’t going to get him anywhere.

“Then let’s get back out there. It smells like bleach and old heating vents in here and I’m pretty sure those are globs of toilet paper stuck to the ceiling and they could fall down at any time.” He remembers doing that with his friends when he was a kid, and he recognizes the signs. The ceiling in her is a powder keg waiting to rain down disgusting clumps on their heads.

“Yeah, let’s go. We’ve got some arts programs to save.”

 

 

“Scott? Scott Moir?”

Scott hastily swallows the mini chocolate chip cookie he’d pilfered from the dessert table, wiping the crumbs off the corner of his mouth with his thumb before spinning around to see who had called out his name. He'd been hoping to have a break from schmoozing investors and polishing his networking skills, but it seems like he's not going to be so lucky. 

“Kaitlyn Weaver?" His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open in shock. She's the last person he expected to see today. "How the hell are you?” He wraps his arms around her in a warm hug before holding her at arm’s length and taking her in.

It’s been years since he last saw her outside of pictures on Suzanne’s mantel, but she hasn’t changed at all. Still the same long blonde hair and bright, sparkling blue eyes, and a wide, painted pink smile.

“I’m good. Really good, actually. I just got home from –“

"Cambodia, I know,” Scott laughs, “Suzanne has been giving me all the updates over the years. How was it?”

“It was a very educational experience. In some expected and some unexpected ways.” Kaitlyn seems to drift off into a daze for a moment, her eyes clouding over as if she's flashing back to a memory, before she shakes herself and smiles again. “Speaking of my aunt though, she told me it was you who planned all of this. You always were so good to her.”

“She’s an easy person to be good to. But it wasn’t just me, it was Tessa, too. I don’t know if Suzanne mentioned it, but she and I are business partners now.”

“She did,” Kaitlyn nods with mock solemnity, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, “I’m not surprised you two found a way to work together. You never could get too far away without eventually being sucked right back into her orbit.”

“Kait,” He sighs, staring down at the empty glass in his left hand.

It’s an old argument. The same argument he’d had with all of his girlfriends. None of them could ever understand his bond with Tessa, or why he wasn’t able to give it up to strengthen his relationships with them. Always asking him to choose. It’s the same argument that ultimately lead to the demise of all those relationships, too. Ultimatums being issued that he couldn’t possibly hope to satisfy, nor did he want to.

As he’d admitted with the ballroom dance situation, there isn’t anything he would choose over Tessa. For better or for worse.

"Relax, Scott,” Kaitlyn covers his hand gently with her own and squeezes, her eyes devoid of any resentment and instead only full of understanding, “I’m just teasing. I’m over it, and we were always better as friends, anyway.”

They share a smile, and it feels a lot like closure. Two people putting the past behind them and silently agreeing to move forward as friends.

“So what brought you home to Ontario instead of Texas or something?”

“Oh, a few things, but mostly Voss. I’m working on a partnership with them to provide more clean water to impoverished communities in Southeast Asia.”

“That’s awesome!” He glances over her shoulder and spots Tessa making her way towards them, looking like a woman on a mission – her eyes darting anxiously around the room to make sure nobody is paying attention to her. He’d bet good money that she’s attempting to sneak over here to eavesdrop on his conversation with her sworn enemy, so he sabotages her by calling out her name. “Tess! Look who’s here!”

“Kaitlyn Weaver,” Tessa’s lips peel back over her teeth in the worst attempt at a smile he’s ever seen from her, and Scott smothers his laugh by snagging another cookie and taking a large bite. “You’re back from Cambodia at last.”

“Tessa,” Kaitlyn hugs her so politely it looks less friendly than a formal handshake would have been, and Scott snorts when Tessa mouths _help me_ at him over the blonde’s shoulder. “It’s been much too long. An entire lifetime, it seems!”

“It has been a while,” Tessa agrees awkwardly and steps back, putting a respectable amount of distance between herself and Kaitlyn before smiling again. This time it’s a much better attempt. One that could almost be called genuine if you didn't know her. “You’ve been busy saving the world, so I hear.”

“Oh,” Kaitlyn laughs merrily, scrunching up her button nose and shaking her head, “Hardly. Just doing my part for humanity, you know, just like you.”

It’s a nice sentiment and Scott finds himself nodding along. Tessa does do her part, Kaitlyn’s not wrong about that. Tessa’s gone stiff though, a small frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. Like she’s taken the comment the wrong way and found offense – which wouldn’t exactly be surprising. The story of Tessa and Kaitlyn is one of offense being taken when it wasn't intended (and sometimes when it was), either on one side or the other.

“That’s all of us can do, really. Did you know Scott and I planned this event for Suzanne?”

Scott grins at how predictable she is. He loves Tess, but her perceived competition with Kaitlyn has always been the thorn in her side, especially where Suzanne is concerned. Their old coach loves the two of them like family, but she also has an endless supply of compliments for her niece, and Tessa… doesn’t handle the feeling of being second-best very well.

“I did!” Kaitlyn exclaims, her hand landing lightly on his elbow as she turns to him with a wide smile, “We were just talking about it. It’s really very kind of you. I’ve been so busy getting my Voss partnership off of the ground, I really haven’t had any time since getting home to help my aunt’s school, so this really takes a load off my shoulders.”

_I didn’t do it for you_. Scott hears Tessa thinking the words loud and clear, even though they haven’t left her mouth, and he shoots her a reprimanding look that Kaitlyn can’t see to prevent her from actually saying something. It's not worth picking a fight over.

“Kait’s working with Voss to get more clean water to impoverished communities in Southeast Asia. Isn’t that great, T?” Scott quickly backs up Kaitlyn and nods encouragement at Tessa, hoping to stave off any argument, and Tessa pastes on her best customer service smile, her voice oddly high-pitched and obviously fake. 

“That’s amazing, Kait!”

“Tessa! Here you are. You have to hear this story,” Andrew appears almost out of nowhere and Scott immediately stands up a little straighter, biting the inside of his cheek when Andrew casually throws his arm around Tessa’s shoulders and pullers her in close to his side. “This woman, Mrs. Ratcliffe, has the most ridiculous story about how frogs started her company. I swear you have to hear it yourself.”

“What do you mean frogs?” Tessa laughs, wrapping her arm around Andrew, but Scott notices that the other man’s attention has been captured by the blonde across from him.

A curious look passes between the two of them, hinting at something… almost secretive, but it disappears as soon as Andrew opens his mouth and Scott dismisses it as the workings of his own imagination. What could Andrew and Kaitlyn possibly share looks over?

“Oh, hi Kait. I didn’t expect to see you here.” He sounds cool, indifferent, but there’s a tightness to his jaw that suggests he’s not as cavalier as he appears, and Scott looks back and forth between him and Kaitlyn in confusion. Something seems a little... off.

“You two know each other?” Tessa asks

“Our paths crossed briefly in Cambodia,” Kaitlyn answers with a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “If you’ll excuse me, my aunt is beckoning for me to join her.”

“What a small world,” Scott murmurs, watching Kaitlyn walk over to join Suzanne. Her aunt’s back was facing them and she appears to be having a hilarious conversation with the people she’s talking to, and she looks genuinely surprised when Kaitlyn joins them, leading Scott to believe that Kaitlyn only wanted to escape the awkwardness. Probably because of Tessa's poorly veiled hostility.

“She looks different since the last time I saw her,” Andrew observes.

Scott doesn’t miss the way Andrew’s eyes drop to Kaitlyn’s ass, and he swears a mental oath to keep a careful watch on Andrew’s behavior for as long as the other man intends to be in Tessa’s life. He still has his arm around her, after all, even while blatantly checking out another woman. “Tired and washed-out. Don’t you think?”

No, he doesn’t. In fact, Kaitlyn hasn’t looked more beautiful, but Tessa perks up a little at the backhanded insult, clearly pleased that Andrew isn't fawning all over Kaitlyn like she'd feared. A sure sign that Andrew had said it for her benefit, more than to be honest.

“I try not to think about Kaitlyn Weaver,” Tessa mutters, making Andrew laugh, and Scott scowls. 

“Touché,” Andrew chuckles and bumps his hip against hers, “Now, can I take you over to hear Mrs. Radcliffe’s story?”

“Please do,” Tessa grins, bumping his hip back, “Coming, Scott?”

“No,” Scott shakes his head slowly, but emphatically, “I think I’ll go find Kaetlyn and try to drum up more money for the children’s school.” The last thing he wants is to spend more time watching Andrew flirt with and makes eyes at every attractive person with breasts.

Especially if that person is Tessa.

“Suit yourself,” Andrew shrugs, guiding Tessa away, and Scott watches them go, swallowing around the lump in his throat and forcing it back down.

It’s fine that she’s renewed her friendship with him. Really, it is. Tessa loves her friends and she deserves to be adored, but maybe… maybe he just wishes it wasn’t quite like this. And maybe he wishes it wasn’t _that_ particular friend.

But still. It’s fine. Her friendship with Andrew could never hope to compete with his friendship with her. Andrew is like the shiny new toy at Christmas. The Buzz Lightyear to Scott’s Woody.

(Not that Scott would push the guy of a window of course, but, you know, he might try to leave him in a Pizza Planet somewhere if given the chance.)

Andrew might be exciting and new, but Scott’s the one in it for the long haul.

There's still plenty of time to fulfill his new year resolution - no need to worry. 

    


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return and ultimate demise of Ryan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter coincides with EKOM chapters 8 & 9

** line change **

****

“Scott!” Tessa makes a horrific sound from her office next door, scaring him half to death and making his limbs jerk wildly in surprise. Something awful must have happened for her to make a noise like that, and Scott lurches forward in a panic - his monitor crashing to the floor in a spectacular fashion, the cables plugged into the back twisting and snapping as it plummets to an early death.

It’s a complete mess, but he doesn’t have time to assess the damage. He has to get to Tessa and make sure that she’s okay, that neither she nor anyone in their extended family is hurt.

“Tess, what’s wrong? What is it? Are you hurt?” He flies into her office in a panic, searching for the source of her pain. Relief washes over him when he doesn’t see any signs of bleeding or broken limbs, but she’s staring at the computer screen like it’s hurt her somehow, and that immediately causes thoughts of injured family members to swirl around his head. Maybe she got an email from Jordan or her mom.

“Ryan Semple is coming,” She answers him, her voice robotic and stilted, and he takes in a great heaving breath to try and calm his racing heart. That wasn’t what he expected at all, and as his heartbeat slows and his fear dissipates, anger takes its place.

She called him in here, screaming like a banshee, for _this?_

“When? _Why?”_

“This morning – any minute, probably. He’s bringing his fiancée so we can plan his wedding.”

She beckons him over and Scott has no choice but to walk up behind her and look at the computer screen. It better say that Ryan is coming to announce he’s killed someone or suing them, otherwise her reaction is not at all justified.

_Chère Madame Virtue,_

_My fiancé and I would be honoured if you would be willing to plan our wedding celebration. Your reviews online are superb and I believe your elegant taste will match perfectly with ours. I would love to meet you in person. Unless we hear otherwise, we will plan on stopping by your office on Monday, February 20_ _ th _ _to begin organizing this wonderful event._

_Salutations distinguées,_

_Gabriella Papadakis & Ryan Semple_

"I don’t understand,” He mutters once he’s finished reading the perfectly cordial email. It’s a surprise, sure, one that he never would have expected, but it isn’t an impending asteroid or announcement that World War Three has begun. “Is this a joke? Because it isn’t funny. I thought something serious had happened in here like you’d fallen down or gotten a bad phone call from one of our family members.”

“This _is_ serious,” Tessa jabs him in the ribs with her elbow, apparently oblivious to how annoyed he is, “Why would he hire us? _Me?_ This can only be bad, Scott.”

_Not as bad as someone DYING_ , he thinks mutinously before glancing at the message again, “I agree it’s super weird. And I don’t like the idea of the guy who practically assaulted you coming back here and hiring you again. So just cancel.”

There. Easy peasy. This isn’t nearly as big of an issue as she’s making it out to be.

But instead of agreeing with him and opening up a new draft email, Tessa shakes her head, her shoulders sagging in resignation, “I can’t cancel.”

“Uh, why not?” He loves her, but even he would be the first to admit that Tessa doesn’t always make the most sense. Why continue to work with someone who’s a complete jackass?

"Because one: the woman already scheduled an appointment and it would be unprofessional for me to cancel at the last minute,” Tessa holds up her index finger, and Scott stifles a snort. Of course she’d see a scheduled appointment as the equivalent of something being set in stone. “And two: I can’t let him win.”

The first reason he understands, because she’s Tessa and she’s organized almost to a fault and lives by her calendar, but the second reason makes no sense at all. Let him win what? “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you see? Clearly this is an attempt to get back at me.”

“You don’t know that.”

She fixes him with a look and Scott’s retort dies in his throat. Hiring her, paying her more money, is a weird form a revenge, but Scott has to admit… Ryan _does_ seem like the kind of guy who would have an ulterior motive here. He definitely never does things without a reason, and flaunting a new relationship in front of the woman who rejected him fits in with what Scott knows about his personality.

“Okay… maybe, yeah, it probably is. But you’re Tessa Virtue. Once he sees that you can’t be bothered by him, he’ll get bored and move on.”

“But I am bothered,” Tessa groans loudly and stares up at the ceiling, and Scott’s momentarily distracted by the expanse of her milky white neck dotted with freckles and the sudden urge to bed down and kiss her there. “Why can’t he just move on and leave me alone?” She continues, shaking him from his distracted thoughts, and Scott forces himself to pay attention and stop daydreaming.

“You’re a pretty tough person to move on from, kiddo.”

He hadn’t meant to be so blunt. So open and honest. But the words fall out of their own accord, and once he’s said them he finds he doesn’t regret it. She’s blushing at the unexpected compliment, and Scott smiles. He distracted her  _and_ made her happy - that's a definite win.

“Well, that’s very sweet, thank you. But in this particular instance, I would prefer if that wasn’t the case.”

So would he, but since that doesn’t seem like an option, the best he can do is offer her his support and comfort. Both of which she clearly needs right now.

“Hey, come here.” He takes her hands in his and pulls her up out of the chair and into a warm embrace, holding her gently, but firmly, so that she knows he’s here for her. Solid and safe. “Now just breathe.”

It’s an old habit of theirs from their ballroom dance days. A method of building their partnership and reinforcing their team bond before a competition. A way to say, “Hey, I’m here and I love you and no matter what, we’ll face this _together_.” And he figures now’s as good a time as any to use it again.

He can tell the second Tessa gives into it, her eyes falling closed and her chest pressing up against his as she breathes deeply in and out, matching her breathing to his. It’s soothing, holding her like this and being held in return, and Scott relaxes into her as much as she does him.

“Tessa?” Kaetlyn says from the doorway, and for the first time since she started working there, Scott mentally curses the presence of the assistant. It’s not her fault, of course, but he wouldn’t have minded a few more minutes alone. “Sorry to interrupt, but Ryan Semple is here…”

Tessa goes tense again in his arms, as if their hug didn’t happen (even though neither of them has let go yet), and Scott impulsively drops a kiss to the top of her head as one last encouragement.

“Showtime,” He says as enthusiastically as he can manage, dropping his arms and stepping away, “I’ll be in my office if you need anything. You’ve got this, Virtch. Be strong.”

Tessa nods quickly, squaring her shoulders like she’s about to do battle and turning to give Kaetlyn permission to bring them back into her office.

Scott slips away to avoid a confrontation with the other man and finds his own office looking like it was hit by a hurricane. _Hurricane Tessa_ , to be exact. An apt name for a woman like her. Not that he’d have it any other way. Besides, he’d rather deal with this mess than have to deal with the mess that will inevitably be accompanying Ryan.

Thankfully the man hasn’t come to any of Alex’s get-togethers since the incident in December, because Scot’s not sure he could have contained his temper. He still hasn’t forgiven him for forcing a kiss on Tess, even if she’s moved past it, and he’s not certain he ever will.

Scott picks up the monitor and evaluates the status of the cables, but there’s no hope of salvaging any of it. The monitor is cracked down the center of the screen with jagged lines moving outwards like a spider web and the bits of the cables that were attached broke off inside their slots – jammed and impossible to remove with tiny pliers.

It's beyond his expertise, which means there’s only one thing to do.

Scott pulls his phone out of his pocket and shoots a quick call off to Trennt, and when the young man arrives he wastes no time ushering him into his office.

“What the hell happened?” Trennt practically shouts, his mouth comically falling open as he surveys the damage – like the mess personally offends him – and Scott’s cheeks heat up as he scrambles for an explanation that isn’t _Tessa screamed and I thought she was dying so my limbs automatically pushed literally everything out of the way to get to her._

“I… uh, I was surprised by something and I sort of… overreacted.”

“So you took it out on your monitor?”

“Well, it wasn’t on purpose.” He folds his arms over his chest, and Trennt laughs.

“No worries man, it should be an easy fix. I brought a new monitor and cables. Let’s just hope there isn’t any damage to the main tower.”

“Thank you.” Scott replies earnestly as Trennt crawls underneath his desk, already digging around and getting to work remedying Scott’s mistake. “Thanks for coming at such short notice.”

“Eh, I was already in the neighborhood on another job. Honestly though, I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome back here thought after…” His voice trails off, partially muffled by the cable he’s stuck between his teeth, but Scott understands what he’s saying.

“Don’t be silly. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Kaetlyn, but that doesn’t mean you’re losing your job. Who else would I trust to help with my tech?”

“Thanks, man,” Trennt pops his head back out to smile appreciatively, and Scott shrugs like it’s nothing.

Trennt is still a damn good I.T. guy, and just because things didn’t end up like they’d all hoped, (well, all except for Tessa, which still stings a little, if Scott’s being honest), doesn’t mean Scott doesn’t still consider him a friend and someone to call upon in an emergency.

“Scott?” Kaetlyn comes around the corner just then, taking them both by surprise, and Scott jumps just as a loud _thunk_ followed by muttered cursing comes from underneath the desk. Her arms are full of bags of food and a tray of coffee, and she must not have been looking where she was going because it takes until she’s almost tripping over Trennt’s outstretched legs before she’s saying, “Can you help me with – Trennt!”

Three things happen in quick succession. One, Trennt jolts and tries to move his feet, inadvertently putting them directly in her path. Two, Kaetlyn stumbles on said feet, her heels no match for his Converse. Then three, Scott leaps forward to catch her, causing the coffee she’d been holding to spill all down the front of his pants.

“Ow! Fuck! Shit!” He grabs the wet fabric clinging to his legs and pulls it away from his skin, trying to prevent a burn. They’re completely ruined, and even Kaetlyn’s hurried attempt to dab at the stain with a wad of napkins does nothing to prevent it from immediately setting.

“Oh my god, Scott! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I didn’t really like these pants anyway. I’m just glad you didn’t fall and hurt yourself.” He manages to smile at her, which is pretty impressive considering how acutely uncomfortable he is, and tries to act as unruffled as possible. It was an accident – there’s no need to pile on the guilt. “Trennt, can you help her take this stuff to the break room? I have some gym shorts in my bag that I’m gonna change into.”

“Sure,” Trennt grabs the bags of food with a shy smile at Kaetlyn, her own face nearly purple with mortification.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not burned?” She reaches out towards his pants, then seems to think better of it at the last second, and Scott shrugs. He probably is a little singed, but nothing that won’t heal in a couple of days.

“I’m fine, Kaetlyn. No bruise, no foul. Don’t worry about it.”

“Come on, Kaetlyn, let’s give him a chance to change. And I should probably install some updates on your computer while I’m here.” Trennt leads her out of the room and Scott shuts the door behind them.

He feels a little bad about practically forcing the two exes to spend time together, but there just wasn’t any way around it. He can’t exactly walk around the office in soaked pants, especially not with clients here, which leaves Trennt to help Kaetlyn bring in the food Tessa must have told her to pick up.

Scott strips off his khakis, balls them up, and drops them unceremoniously in the garbage bin before tugging on his black gym shorts. They look ridiculous with his pale blue button down, but he figures so long as he stays seated nobody will notice. Thank god he doesn’t have any personal client meetings today, because there's no way anyone would take him seriously.

No sooner is he at his desk again, shorts tied firmly around his waist, than Tessa is walking into his office without preamble, groaning loudly and flopping backwards over the wooden surface on top of all of his papers – only narrowly missing hitting his keyboard and monitors with her head.

_It went that well, eh?_

“I need a drink.”

“It’s noon on a Monday,” Scott points out. He’s trying not to laugh, but he can tell by the look Tessa gives him that she knows of his struggle to contain his humor and is not amused. Retaliating by refusing to move when he tries to free some of the papers from underneath her.

“After the meeting I just had, you’d understand. Please tell me you have whiskey or vodka hidden somewhere in your desk.”

Scott grabs her arm and tugs it upwards to grab the papers he needs, ignoring her protests. “You think I bring alcohol to work?”

“No, but a girl can dream,” She replies with wide eyes and the saddest frown she can muster, and Scott does laugh then. He can’t help it. She’s just so cute when she’s being overdramatic.

“So what did you think about her?”

“Who?”

“Who,” He rolls his eyes and nudges her shoulder when she gives him one of her perfected coy smiles – proving that she knows exactly what he’s talking about, “You know who.”

“Voldemort?” She asks with a voice as sweet as honey, and Scott playfully shoves her arm.

“Tes-sa! Seriously.”

“Oh,” Her mouth falls open in a perfectly rounded O and her green eyes go comically wide, “You mean his fiancée. She’s… elegant?”

Wow. Tessa’s never been someone who lacked in the vocabulary department, so the fact that she could only choose _that_ word tells him practically everything he needs to know. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

Tessa laughs and shrugs as best she can while still lying horizontally, “I don’t know what to say. Ryan hardly lets her speak so I don’t know what she’s like other than apparently an amazing Parisian ballerina with friends in high places and designer clothing.”

“Are they actually going to hire us?”

“Apparently they want to, but…” Her voice tapers off as she waves her hand around in the air, wordlessly dismissing them with the gesture.

“But what?”

“He’s only doing this to rub it in our face.”

True. But didn’t she say she couldn’t let him win? And besides, businesses need income to be successful, and weddings bring in _a lot_ of income. Maybe this isn't such a terrible idea.

“If he’s going to pay us a lot of money, he can rub whatever he wants.” He cringes and Tessa shoots him a look of disgust, her face mirroring his own.

“Ewww. Very poor choice of words.”

“Sorry.” He grimaces, scrunching up his nose ever further, and they both laugh. “I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt our company’s reputation or bottom line to do this. As long as he isn’t making you uncomfortable. He isn’t right?” Scott places his hand gently on her arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the smattering of freckles there, and Tessa reaches out to caress the side of his face.

“No, not like that, don’t worry. I just don’t want to look at his gross face.”

Scott laughs to cover up the moan threatening to escape at her tender touch, reaching up to place his hand over hers and lace their fingers together before moving them both to his lap. It’s much safer than letting her continue to caress him – an erection would not be conducive to this conversation _at all_.

“Look, T, I’d never pressure you into doing something that makes you genuinely upset, you know that, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m just saying that if you think you can get through this like a mature adult, then it probably would be a good thing. He may not be the most famous athlete in Canada, or even Ontario, but he could still bring in more business for us.”

“You’re right,” Tessa groans, throwing her free arm over her eyes, “I’ll be mature. But I’m not going to like it!”

“Look on the bright side. It’s a chance at redemption. He was your first failure, after all.”

“Scott!” She cries out in protest, tugging her hand free from his and waving around until she finds his head and can shove his face away, “Don’t be mean!”

“I was trying to be positive,” He laughs without remorse and Tessa blindly sticks her tongue out at him.

“Your pep talks could use some work.”

He lets out a happy little hum and returns to his work, his fingers tapping speedily against the keyboard. She’s still lying on some of the papers he needs, but she hasn’t made any indication of leaving and he’s not about to kick her out, so he moves onto a different section for now.

“Did I see Trennt at Kaetlyn’s desk just now?” She asks suddenly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in a way that Scott tries and fails not to find distracting.

_I could do that for you_. The thought flits in and out of his brain and he hurriedly refocuses on his work. 

“Probably,” He agrees, swallowing thickly and shrugging, “She needed some updates.”

“Did you call him on purpose?” Her eyes narrow in suspicion, but Scott doesn’t falter underneath her gaze.

“You mean did I call him to come fix the monitor I accidentally broke when you screamed this morning? Yes, I did.”

“Oh…” She pauses for a moment, staring intently up at the ceiling, “I thought maybe you were trying to distract her from Ryan.”

She rolls on her side to face him, propping her head up with one hand, and Scott steadfastly refuses to look at her. He’s had one too many fantasies that began like this – her laid out on his desk, usually in less clothing, saying something like, “Why don’t you work on my spreadsheets for a change?” (it’s shitty dialogue with an even shittier pun, but _dialogue_ isn’t exactly his focus in these fantasies) - and her pose combined with the intense look she’s giving him has him shifting uncomfortably in his chair. The gym shorts hiding far less than he would prefer.

“No, see,” He begins, grateful that his voice still sounds mostly normal, brushing her dark hair off his keyboard, “I don’t conspire about my friend’s relationships like you do.”

Anymore, that is. He’d tried it once and he’d failed. His matchmaking skills no, well, _match_ , for Tessa’s determination and plotting.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done though?” She sounds upset, but she has no reason to be. It wasn’t like it was some elaborate set up, and despite what she may think, both Trennt and Kaetlyn are adults and perfectly capable of acting rationally.

“Yes, I got my computer fixed.”

“What if this sets my work back with Kaetlyn? She’s come so far since last fall and today has already been a serious test of her resolve. Now this? Didn’t you think about how it might hurt her?”

Scott turns to her with a deepening frown, “Okay, first of all, Kaetlyn is your assistant and friend, not somebody to work on, and second of all, I’m going to have to call I.T. sometimes, Virtch – technology isn’t always my best friend, as you well know. And thirdly, I resent the implication that I would willingly hurt Kaetlyn.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” She immediately softens her tone, “I just don’t think it can be easy for her to see Ryan and Trennt again on the same day.”

“You’re right," He concedes, "And I should have thought about that first. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’d just better get out there and do some damage control.”

“And let me work,” He jokes, playfully attempting to push her off his desk, and she sits up with a tinkling laugh that makes him grin in return.

“I guess that too. Thanks for listening,” She hops up and drops a quick kiss to the top of his head, and Scott can’t help the way he preens under her burst of affection, making her laugh again.

“Anytime, kiddo. Good luck with Kaetlyn.”

“Thanks.”

 

****

 

“So how are things? I feel like it’s been a while since we had a chance to catch up.” Alex pops the lid off a bottle of beer and hands it too him, the condensation on the outside chilling his fingers and dripping over his skin as Scott accepts it with a grateful smile.

“It’s been… interesting,” Scott hedges, distracting himself by opening a bag of chips and pouring it into a bowl for the two of them to share while they watch the Leafs play the Red Wings.

“Uh oh,” Alex chuckles, “I know that tone. What’s up with Tess?”

“Your friend Ryan’s just being an asshole, as usual,” Scott sighs, flopping down onto the oversized brown couch with a whoosh and propping his feet up on the battered ottoman.

The couch and matching ottoman were some of the few furniture items Alex had kept when he’d moved in with Midori – the two of them mutually agreeing that she had better decorating taste – and Scott’s grateful to have something to relax on that he doesn’t have to care about accidentally messing up. Everything upstairs is so _pristine_ , but the basement is, for lack of a better term, the perfect man cave, and he an Alex can throw back a few beers and not worry too much about spilling the nacho cheese while they cheer for their team and catch up on each other's lives.

“Seriously,” Scott continues, licking some of said cheese off his thumb, “Why are you even friends with that guy?”

“We were in the Olympics together,” Alex shrugs, propping his feet up next to Scott’s, “Sharing that kind of environment and stress bonds you.”

“Gross.”

“I didn’t say it was a close bond,” Alex amends, and Scott snorts loudly. He should fucking hope not. The guy’s practically a public menace.

“Have you spent time with him and his fiancée? He doesn’t respect her at all. Every time they come into the office I know Tessa has to physically restrain herself from duct-taping his mouth.”

“Now that I’d like to see. You have to promise to take pictures if she ever does.” Alex laughs and the two of them get momentarily distracted by Auston Matthews scoring a goal, pausing the conversation to shout loudly and clap at the flat screen. “And no, I haven’t met her yet. We’re supposed to get dinner together this week.”

“My condolences.”

Alex laughs again, light and breezy and clearly not taking the situation as seriously as Scott would prefer. “I know he can be a bit –“

“Douchey?” Scott offers, earning a smirk and an eye roll from Alex.

“I was going to say _opinionated_.”

“Sure, if by opinionated you mean arrogant and conceited and self-centered and –“

“You’ve been spending too much time around Tess.” Alex shakes his head, glancing at his phone when it pings and smiling when he shoots off a reply to the text. It’s probably from Midori, even though she’s right upstairs, and Scott would mock him for being so sappy if he wasn’t also a little envious. “Don’t those all mean the same things?

“They all apply.”

“Look, I won’t disagree that Ryan isn’t… the easiest person to be friends with, and I know he can be a tough client. But it’ll be over soon and you and Tess can cash your checks and part ways forever.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself, and her, but it’s getting harder and harder with each passing week.”

“How’s Tessa holding up? If it’s hard for you, it must be twice as hard for her having to actually deal with him face to face.”

“She’s amazing, as always,” Scott sighs, ignoring the pointed look Alex gives him, “But I know her patience is wearing thin. I’m just waiting for the day she snaps.”

“Maybe she won’t. Tess is tough. I’m sure she wouldn’t have taken the job if she didn’t think she could handle it.”

“I know she can handle anything she puts her mind to, I just worry about her.”

Alex snorts softly, but he knows better than to say anything. Scott had made the mistake of drunkenly confessing his feelings regarding Tessa to him a few years ago, but he’d sworn his friend to secrecy the next day – forcing him to promise never to reveal what he knew or bring it up again. But that hadn’t stopped him from _implying_ things every now and then, either with a look or a cough or a smirk. Like right now with the way his mouth is twitching as he takes a swig from his bottle.

Scott knows he’s just itching to make a snarky comment, so he keeps the conversation moving, “What’s the maximum sentence for murdering a client in Ontario, do you think? Just so I’m prepared.”

“Please, you’d never let Tessa serve her time. I’d give it like two, maybe three weeks tops before you busted her out of there and ran away to Mexico or something.”

“Nah,” Scott shakes his head, “It’d have to be somewhere like Morocco where they don’t extradite criminals.”

Alex laughs and Scott grins. “Of course you’ve already thought about this.”

“I’ve seen enough of _Orange is the New Black_ to know Tessa would hate it in prison. She’s way too nice. Plus she’d be miserable wearing an orange jumpsuit every day.” Scott chuckles and momentarily takes a moment to swear at the ref for a bad call, but his heart isn’t in it tonight. He’s too preoccupied with thoughts about his business partner and the homicidal tendencies that Ryan seems to bring out in her. It's both scary and a little impressive somehow.

“Please, you’re just afraid she’d come out with a hot, tattooed girlfriend and you’d miss your chance.” Alex cheers when Marner scores during a power play, but Scott suddenly doesn’t care about hockey anymore.

“I…” He pauses, frozen to the spot, “I’m not sure what to do with that.”

Alex laughs again and slugs him on the shoulder, shaking him from thoughts of Tessa making out with another woman. It’s hot, but also pokes uncomfortably at his more jealous and possessive side, and he forcibly shoves the image out of his head.

“Anyway, the point is your friend sucks.”

“Look on the bright side, buddy, maybe something good will come from all of this. A life lesson, at least.”

Alex turns his attention back fully to the game, and Scott knows the conversation is over. He’s lost him to slapshots and close calls and body checks. That’s what he should be paying attention to, too, so he takes another long swallow of his beer and shoves his mouth full of chips. It’s guy’s night, after all, so he silently promises not to bring up Tessa again. Besides, maybe Alex is right. Tess is tough, and when all this is over maybe they’ll have both gained something valuable.

A sizeable paycheck, if nothing else.

 

****

 

It’s over a lot sooner than he’d anticipated. Weeks before the wedding, in fact.

Ryan and Gabby come over for their appointment and at first everything seems normal, but after a few minutes Scott hears raised voices – loud enough that he can hear the entire conversation from his desk – which means he doesn’t miss it when Tessa practically kicks them out for getting a chef fired, undeterred by Ryan’s thinly veiled threats and insults.

When the two of them have gone Scott gets up and makes his way to her office, finding her with her head on her desk, shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

“Tess?” He calls softly, not wanting to startle her, and she rolls her head to the side to look at him.

“Did you hear any of that?”

“I heard all of it,” He answers honestly, grabbing a chair and dragging it over to her side before encouraging her to move her head from the hard surface of the desk to his somewhat softer shoulder. “You did the right thing. I was about to come in here and kick him out if you didn’t.”

“Yeah? You’re not worried that I just ruined our business?” She tilts her head up to look at him, her bottom lip red and raw from her chewing it, and he shrugs and wraps his arms more firmly around her.

“Nah. I don’t think he’ll actually do anything. He talks a big game, but he doesn’t actually know that many important people, and the ones he does know are friends with Alex and Midori – whose wedding we are also planning and which will be perfect, right?”

He nudges her softly, trying to sound encouraging, but Tessa doesn’t move or even try to smile, just tucks herself further into his side as if she can burrow into the space there and hide from the world. Not that he’d mind – his arms are free real estate for her – but it’s a little bit concerning to see her like this. Tessa rarely gets defeated.

“Right,” She mumbles into his shirt, sounding very young, and he strokes up and down her arms in a further attempt to soothe her.

“If it makes you feel better, none of their deposits are refundable.”

The tiniest smile spreads across her face and he feels a momentary flash of triumph that he put it there. It's small, but it's a start.

“That does, thank you.”

“I’m proud of you for standing up to him,” He tells her earnestly, trying to bolster her and widen her smile, “Usually I’m the one that gets all emotional.” He chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of her head, “Don’t overthink this, kiddo.”

He can practically hear the cogs and gears whirring inside her head as she does exactly that, her mind probably spinning a hundred kilometers a minute – going over every scenario, every consequence, everything she could have done differently – and he’s not exactly surprised when she lifts her head up, looking determined, and opens her mouth to speak.

“Do you know what I told my mom when she asked me why I wanted to do this?”

“Because you wanted to help people,” Scott answers simply, brushing away a few strands of her hair that had come untucked, his fingers lingering on the soft skin behind her ear. It’s an easy answer (it’s practically their mission statement), so he’s not sure where exactly she’s going with this.

“Yes, and I still do. I like the matchmaking because I believe in the idea of love. The life-coaching because I want to see people reach their fullest potential. And the party planning? I love creating those memories.”

“Yes,” Scott agrees slowly with a confused smile, his thumb and index finger still stroking the shell of her ear without his permission (but she hasn't stopped him yet, so...), “It’s very rewarding. What’s your point?”

“This – this has been toxic. This was a very selfish person using his engagement to torture anyone who’s ever hurt his feelings. He dragged me and poor Kaetlyn into this mess intending to take us down with him, just because he was bitter.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I want to take the company in a different direction.”

He goes still, staring at her with his jaw on the floor. They’ve been doing this for over two years. They’re just now getting into a good flow with regular income. And she wants to _change_? He’s not opposed to change, per se, but a little warning would be nice! And they’ll have to run this over with Kate and discuss finances and marketing and… and… _“What?”_

“I want to focus more on charitable causes,” She takes the hand that had fallen away from her ear into his lap and squeezes it, lacing their fingers together, “I’ll still do all the other things so we keep making money, but instead of planning only weddings and engagement parties, I want to take on more charity fundraisers like we did for Suzanne.”

“I think that’s great, Tess.” Scott replies without hesitation. He _does_ think it’s great. Even if it means a lot of work and a lot of late nights as they make the necessary adjustments. But if it’s something she’s passionate about, he’ll help her. He always will.

“You do?”

“Absolutely! I love the charity work you and I get to do with ballroom and little kids and stuff, but it would be great to do even more and help more causes. And you know…” He pauses, an idea occurring to him. She won’t like it (that’s an understatement), but if they’re serious about this, they’re going to need help, “It might help to have someone on our staff with experience in that area…”

“Like who?” Her eyes have narrowed and she looks like she’s just bitten down on a particularly sharp lemon, but Scott continues with his suggestion anyway.

“Kaitlyn Weaver.”

“No!” Tessa shoots up out of her chair, sending it crashing backwards into her desk, “No, no, no, no, no.”

Scott stands up as well, reaching for her hand again, but Tessa rips it out of his reach - a punishment for suggesting they hire her nemesis to work for them – and it’s _almost_ enough to convince him to change his mind. Almost.

“Just hear me out. She has a degree in social policy, experience with charity work, she’s smart and great at networking when she wants to be –“

“We can’t have two Kaitlyns at the office. It’ll get confusing!”

They both know it’s a flimsy argument, and Scott dismisses it easily.

“That’s ridiculous. She has all the right qualifications, she needs a job, and it would make Suzanne happy.” All good things, as far as he’s concerned. It’s win/win for everybody. “Besides, I already know she’s interested in what we do.”

Tessa goes very still, her expression shifting from defiance to suspicion faster than he can blink, “How would you know?”

“I had dinner with them last week. Give her a chance.” He can’t find a good reason to lie, so he answers honestly, but it’s obviously not the answer Tessa wanted to hear. She looks like he purposely went behind her back and betrayed her.

This feud is getting out of hand.

“You had dinner with Kait?”

“And Suzanne,” Scott reiterates, “Yes.”

It’s not like it was a date. They’re just two friends, eating dinner and catching up - her AUNT included, but the way she’s reacting he might as well have sold the entire business to Kaitlyn and pocketed the cash without a word.

“And you talked to her about our business – and offered her a job – without even consulting me?”

“She asked about what I’m doing now so I explained it to her and she said she thought there was a lot of potential to expand what we do. I didn’t offer her anything, T,” Scott clarifies quickly. He’d never make a business decision without consulting her. They're a team. “I’m just saying it might not be a bad idea to have another person on our team to help manage events. Kaetlyn was a ton of help with Suzanne’s fundraiser, but what if we need to juggle two or three events at once? You can’t ask her to handle all of that, or expect yourself to, either.”

“You’ve actually put some thought into this, haven’t you?” She glares at him, and Scott shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair, not caring that it's probably sticking up in a million directions now.

“A little bit, yeah.” A little bit as in she’d mentioned needing a job and he’d had the fleeting thought of speaking to Tessa about it, but it wasn’t a solid thing by any means. “But I would never say anything to Kait without your permission. I just thought you could use the help.”

“I don’t need help,” She replies, obstinate as ever, “I can handle it just fine.”

“Come on, T, don’t be so stubborn. Expanding is a good thing. It means we can do more.” He gives her his best puppy-dog eyes. The ones he knows she’s powerless to resist. And he can see her resolve begin to weaken.

“I guess… maybe… I’d be willing to consider it,” Tessa hedges, speaking slowly and holding her hands up to keep Scott from interrupting, “But only on the condition that she knows I’m the boss. She doesn’t get to come in here and take over my business like she did four years ago.”

“Tess,” Scott laughs at the memory, “You were selling store-bought brownies for three bucks a piece outside of the testing center and Kait just suggested she make homemade cookies to sell as well, it was hardly a hostile takeover.”

“It doesn’t matter. I did all the hard work growing a customer base and reputation and a rapport with my fellow students, and then she came in and started taking some of the profits!”

“You were both exploiting stressed-out college kids,” Scott points out with another laugh.

“I always gave you a discount though,” Tessa reminds him, jabbing him in the chest with her index finger and then frowning when he traps her hand there with his own and refuses to let go, “Besides, those kids needed the extra sugar boost before taking their exams. I was helping them.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a smart business model.” He grins and continues to keep her hand trapped over his heart, both because it’s fun to antagonize her and because it feels good, until she gives up trying to tug it free with a huff.

He starts to move her trapped hand up to his mouth - just to press a quick kiss to her palm and see how she'd react - when a woman's voice interrupts them.

“Excusez-moi.”

They both turn, surprised to see Gabby knocking on the open door and walking back into the office. Thankfully, she appears to be alone this time. No jerkwad in sight.

“Miss Papadakis, what are you doing here?” Tessa asks, tugging her hand free from Scott’s grasp and tucking her hair behind her ears, trying to seem professional again as she smooths out the non-existent wrinkles in her slacks.

“I came to apologize to both you and Scottie,” She explains, and Scott cringes at the nickname. When she was paying them he’d let her get away with it, but now that that’s over he might have to have a talk with her about boundaries if she intends to stick around. “What Ryan did was wrong and I did not condone it. I have ended my engagement to him.”

Scott and Tessa gape at her, mirror images of shock. He’d never in a million years would have guessed this would happen. At least not so soon.

_Good for her_ , he thinks with a mental cheer and fist pump. He hadn't really had an opinion about Gabby when she was their client, but now he thinks he might actually grow to consider her as almost a friend. 

“I wasn’t sure to begin with and my doubts have been growing," Gabby continues to explain, "I wanted to believe in the fairytale romance, but he is no prince charming.”

“You can say that again,” Scott mutters and Tessa elbows him in the ribs. He’s right though, and they both know it.

“Thank you for your apology,” Tessa says genuinely, “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you.”

“C'est d'accord,” Gabby waves her hand dismissively, like ending an engagement is mundane. Nothing more than deciding what to eat for breakfast or what shoes to wear. “There is always another man. I will move on. Though it will be lonely not having a friend outside of the dance company.”

The thought occurs to him that she probably only knew people because of Ryan, and Scott hates the idea of anyone being left friendless because of that guy. Or any guy, for that matter. She shouldn’t have to suffer just because the man she thought she loved turned out to be terrible. “Have you eaten?” Scott asks suddenly and both women turn to look at him with cocked heads.

“No, I have not,” Gabby answers with a small smile.

He can see Tessa briefly scrunching up her face in the corner of his eye, and he knows she’s probably not going to be very happy with him, but he continues on anyway, “Would you like to have lunch with me and Tess? We’re just going down the street to a local place. It’s not fancy, but it’s good food.”

“Oui! I would love to!” She bounces on the balls of her feet, clasping her hands together, “You are too kind!”

“Great! We’ll both get our jackets and then we can head out.”

It’s not how he expected his afternoon to go. In fact, nothing about this day has been what he predicted. But that makes it better. The day may have started miserable, but it’ll end with new goals and a new friend, and he’s excited to see where this new future takes them.  

 


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaetlyn has car trouble. Kait starts work. Scott gets tricked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter coincides with chapter 10 of EKOM

** odd man rush **

 

The sound of bacon sizzling on the stove provides the background music to his morning, and Scott breathes in the delicious scent as he sips a healthy-sized glass of orange juice. He’d woken up extra early that morning to make sure he’d have enough time to prepare a hearty breakfast, because if there’s ever been a day he needs edible reinforcements before going into work, it’s this one.

It’s Kaitlyn Weaver’s first day on the job, and while Scott’s looking forward to having both her help and her company, he knows the office is about to become Ground Zero in the ongoing war between her and Tessa. Tensions will be high, and he’s going to have to do everything in his power to keep the peace and help the two women find a balance that doesn’t threaten to literally bring the roof down over their heads.

(That might sound drastic, but they’re both Type A and very competitive and determined women. Something as feeble as a solid brick walls and a sturdy roof doesn’t come anywhere near being a match for them.)

He spears the strips of bacon with a fork and puts them on his plate next to a stack of pancakes and a heaping pile of scrambled eggs then sits down at his little corner dining table, scrolling through his news feed as he starts to eat and pausing occasionally to grumble at the most recent idiotic antics of Doug Ford. If he becomes premier of Ontario next year, Scott might have to move to Bermuda.

The kitchen isn’t very big, nothing compared to Tessa’s huge, pristine white one, but it’s cozy and well-used and probably his favorite room in his apartment. The one that comes closest to feeling like part of an actual _home_. Probably because it's the only one he's really bothered to stock past the basic necessities. 

The cramped apartment was supposed to be temporary, just a place to stay while he and Tess started their business and got settled in London after graduating from university, but then one afternoon they’d been carpooling home from work together and she’d found her perfect house completely by accident (fate, she’d called it), and after that Scott couldn’t bring himself to move. Something just didn’t feel right about buying a big house to live in all alone, and he spends most of his free time at Tessa’s anyway.

His phone starts buzzing, inching its way across the table, and Scott answers it around a mouthful of pancakes, chasing the maple syrup drizzling down his chin with his tongue, “Hey Kaetlyn, what’s up?”

“Scott?” She sounds vaguely panicky, and Scott swallows and sits up a little straighter, holding the phone tighter to his ear, “I have to ask you a huge, huge favor. You can say no if you want, no pressure! But something’s happened and I didn’t know who else to call and I couldn’t call Tessa because I know she’s already at work and it’s a big day for her and –“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down,” He chuckles, shaking his head even though he knows she can’t see him through the phone. When did she find the time to breathe in that monologue? “What’s the favor?”

“Can you give me a ride to work? My car won’t start.”

Is that all? Scott could almost start laughing if she didn’t sound so meek and embarrassed. Needing a ride to work is hardly asking for a kidney, and even if it was he would still say yes.

"Of course! I’ll be there in ten, fifteen minutes tops. I just have to clean up my breakfast first. That okay?”

“That’s great. Thank you so much!” Her sigh of relief is audible and Scott smiles, wrapping the remaining pancake around the bacon and eggs in a makeshift sandwich/burrito thing to take with him. There’s no sense wasting it, even if it won’t be quite as good this way.

“Hey, what are friends for?”

 

 

The drive to Kaetlyn’s apartment takes a bit more than the promised fifteen minutes, seeing as she lives across town from him, but he passes the time happily singing along to whatever songs he can find on the radio.

_You gotta go and get angry at all of my honesty_

_You know I try but I don't do too well with apologies_

_I hope I don't run out of time, could someone call a referee?_

_'Cause I just need one more shot at forgiveness_

Scott grins as Justin Bieber’s lyrics blasts through his car speakers – not because the song is particularly _good_ , but because the second he hears it he’s reminded of the moment he’d shared with Tess in that tiny school bathroom. Her hands in his hair. The teasing. If she were here now he knows she’d have the window down and be doing that little wavy dance thing she does with her hands – ridiculous, dorky, and absolutely adorable.

“Thank you again for doing this, Scott,” Kaetlyn climbs into the passenger seat, interrupting his thoughts, and he turns the radio down so that he can wish her good morning. She’s blushing, her ears bright red where they’re peeking out from underneath the maroon beanie she’s tugged over her brown curls, and Scott rushes to reassure her. She must feel guilty for inconveniencing him, but it isn’t an inconvenience at all.

“No worries! It’s been a long time since I had a carpool buddy. It’s fun! It’s better for the environment too, eh?” He nudges her shoulder with his fist and switches gears into reverse, backing carefully out of her parking lot before swinging around to get back on the main road. “Any particular station you like?”

He gestures to the radio, but Kaetlyn shakes her head. “Whatever you want to listen to is fine by me.”

“Uh… it's on a random station right now, but normally I listen to SN590 in the mornings, but if sports aren’t your thing –“

“No I love sports! That’s fine.”

Scott presses the corresponding button on his pre-sets, the voices of Greg Brady, Ashley Docking, & Hugh Burrill breaking down the Raptor’s game against the Bucks replacing whatever female pop singer had come on after Bieber, and he shrugs apologetically at Kaetlyn.

"Okay, but if you get sick of recaps and stats, feel free to change it to something else. Don’t tell Tess though, I never give her radio privileges – she’ll be jealous.” He winks and Kaetlyn giggles and seems to relax, which in turn helps him loosen up.

She seems a little off this morning, but perhaps it’s just stress about her car. He knows her budget must be tight while she works on paying off her school loans – he’d be worried about paying an unexpected mechanic bill too in her position.

“What are you favorite sports? Besides the Leafs, I mean,” She asks, her voice tentative and shy like he hasn’t heard since she first started working for them last autumn.

_Definitely anxious about her car_.

The least he can do is help distract her, so Scott answers swiftly, “I’ll watch pretty much anything, but probably baseball is my favorite after hockey. And I like playing golf. What about you?”

“Hockey, of course,” She answers and he nods. He already knew she had good taste there. “But I also enjoy figure skating as a hobby.”

“Oh yeah?” That does surprise him. Not so much because it’s _rare_ , but because he can actually picture it. She’d probably make an amazing Singles skater – she’s got the build for it. “I did that when I was a kid. My mom and aunt are coaches up in Ilderton and they tried to get me and Tess into ice dance when we were little. They were pretty disappointed when we stuck with ballroom instead, even though they tried to hide it.”

Their medals and awards had eventually put an end to that argument, but every once in a while he gets the impression that his mom and Carol still dream about the  _what if_ sometimes.

“I’ve never tried ballroom before.” Kaetlyn traces her fingers along the medal hanging from his rearview mirror. It’s from a competition they won back in 2005 – years ago and not one of any real consequence – but that had been the first big competition after he’d realized he was in love with Tess and he’d been giddy off his feelings and she’d been giddy off the win and to this day it’s one of his favorite memories.

“You should!” He says, genuinely trying to encourage her. He’ll take any opportunity he can to get more people dancing. It isn’t just for old folks in the retirement home, and it's brought no small amount of joy into his life. “I know I’m biased, but it’s pretty fun,” He winks and Kaetlyn giggles, ducking her head into her shoulder.

“Maybe… maybe you could teach me.”

Teach her? Scott thinks about it for a half a second, but quickly dismisses the idea. There’s no way he’d have time, and he doesn’t have a proper space to do it in, and if she wants to learn it should be from a properly accredited instructor. “Actually, Tess and I know the guy who took over Suzanne’s studio. His name is Sam and he’s a great teacher and an even better friend. I could get you his contact information, if you want.”

“Oh, um…”

For a second Scott imagines a frown on her face, as if she’s disheartened by his answer for some reason, but she rallies so fast that he’s sure he imagined it. A trick of the light, maybe.

“Sure. Sounds fun!”

They pull into the parking lot in front of the office and Scott groans when he finds his usual spot already occupied by a sleek black sports car. “A million spots available and this asshole just had to take mine.”

“You should put up a sign.”

Scott laughs, but he stops as soon as he realizes she was serious, schooling his features into a neutral mask and calmly replying, “You know, that’s not a bad idea. Now if you could just convince Tess of that, then I might have a chance.”

He'd had that argument with her about reserved parking and failed. Although to be fair, he'd wanted his sign to read "Scott the Magnificent" and Tessa argued that it would be a turn off to customers.

“I think you’re the only person Tessa listens to.”

“Ha! If only.”

He takes the spot next to the sports car (it isn’t as good, but it’ll have to do for today) and runs around to the other side to open the door for Kaetlyn before she can do it herself. She’s had a stressful morning, and little acts of kindness always help bring a smile to people’s faces.

“Thank you,” She says quietly, looking up at him in surprise, and Scott grins and holds his arm out to the side.

“After you, m’lady.”

He holds the office door open for her too, waiting until she passes to walk in behind her, and then he freezes.

Andrew is here. Andrew is here, in the foyer, and Tessa is with him and holding a rose.

Andrew owns that stupid fucking sports car.

Scott shakes himself, reaching out to help Kaetlyn remove her jacket for a distraction and something to do with his hands. He wasn’t expecting to see _him_ of all people that morning, and his presence has soured his mood faster than milk forgotten on a kitchen shelf.

(Did he leave his milk out on the shelf? He can't remember, but he has a sinking feeling that he did.)

"Sorry we’re late, T.” He hangs the coats up while Kaetlyn immediately rushes over to Tessa, who apparently hadn’t noticed their arrival until he spoke, in a whirlwind of apologies.

“It’s my fault. My car wouldn’t start and the buses don’t run close to my apartment and the mechanic said he couldn’t get there until tomorrow because Mondays are so busy and –“

“And so she called me and I picked her up. I promised you wouldn’t be mad,” Scott finishes for her, throwing a quick smile towards Tessa and trying to ignore the other man in the office.

_Why is he even here?_

“Of course I’m not mad.” Tessa laughs softly, “Things like this happen. I’m just glad you’re here safely and it didn’t die while you were driving or something. That would be so much worse than tardiness!”

“Oh, me too!” Kaetlyn vigorously nods her head, making Tessa laugh again at her enthusiasm, and the sound makes the corner of Scott’s mouth twitch upwards, if only for a second.

“Me three!” Andrew jumps in, and the smile falls. “Always nice to see you in one piece, Miss Osmond.”

He bows with a flourish - like an overdramatic stage actor - making both women laugh, and Scott scowls behind his back where he can’t see. Does he have to be so… showy all the time?

But, even though he doesn’t like him, Scott was still raised to be polite and he likes making his mother proud, so he extends his hand towards Andrew as both a greeting and a semi-peace offering, “Andrew, we haven’t seen you around for a while.”

_Not that I’m complaining_ , he mentally tacks on to the end of the sentence, a thought that he’s sure Tessa is reading in his face right now. He’s not always the best at hiding his emotions, especially from her, and the warning glance she gives him is proof of that.

“Yes, I had to go to Toronto. I needed a haircut.”

“No barbers in London could cut it, eh?” Scott finds Tessa’s side, bumping her shoulder and sharing a smile over the pun, and he perks up a little when she giggles as she makes a face at him and bumps him back.

_There, see T? I can make an effort to be nice. Kind of._

“I only trust my hair to one man: Benigno La Monte.” Andrew throws another smile at the women, this time adding in a wink on top, and Scott has to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “Hair is important, right ladies? I can tell you both care about yours as much as I do.”

Hair is important? Seriously? Who drives two hours just for a trim? It’s pretentious as hell.

“Did you just come here this morning to get compliments on it, or -” Scott gestures for him to get to the point, not wanting to waste their morning with anymore talk about ridiculous grooming standards when it’s clear Andrew’s just fishing for compliments, but Tessa tucks her hand behind his back and pinches him – causing him to jump and stop talking. He frowns at her, but she keeps looking at Andrew as if she’s as innocent as can be.

Minx.

“I was delivering flowers for Kait. Tess and I were just agreeing that they must be from a tasteless admirer. Except that one, of course.” He flicks his head towards the rose in Tessa’s hand and grins conspiratorially at her, and Tessa tugs her bottom lip with her teeth to keep from smiling.

There’s something suspicious going on here, but Scott isn’t quite sure what. At first glance it seems like Andrew’s flirting with Tess, and his jealous instincts are clawing at his insides in support of that argument, but he can’t quite move past the first part of the other man’s statement. Why would _Andrew_ deliver the flowers and not a delivery boy from the shop? It doesn’t really make sense unless they’re either from him, or he knows who they’re from and was delivering them on that person’s behalf.

It’s just _weird_.

“I didn’t say that, you did.” Tessa disagrees quickly, glancing at Scott out of the corner of her eye like she’s afraid he’s going to scold her for accepting a stolen flower, but he has other things on his mind.

(Although thoughts of the rose will probably - definitely - plague him later.)

Is it possible there’s something going on between Andrew and Kait? And if so, why is he going above and beyond to flirt with Tessa? Is he playing both of them? Stringing them along until he decides which one is more worth his time?

If that turns out to be the case, Scott’s gonna kill him.

“You didn’t?” Andrew raises his eyebrows, “Must have been the look in your eyes. I knew you agreed with me.”

“So you’re an expert at facial expressions now?” Scott cocks his head and folds his arms across his chest, refocusing on the conversation at hand rather than the speculation running through his mind – shelving those thoughts for later when he has more time to go over them properly, and Andrew smirks.

“Only with some people. For example, it’s never hard to read your face, Scott.”

“Was there something else you wanted, Andrew?” Tessa says quickly, sensing the mounting tension, and Scott grits his teeth and stays silent, knowing it’s what she wants from him, even though it kills him to have to let Andrew’s not-so-subtle challenge go unanswered.

"Yes, actually. The Toronto International Spring of Horror and Fantasy Film Festival is this weekend and I was wondering if you and Kaetlyn wanted to go with me. Or, what the hell, your whole office. Maybe Kait would like to come, too, since she’s been away for so long. I’d be honored to have the pleasure of the company of three lovely women.”

“Tess doesn’t do horror,” Scott snorts, not missing the fact that Andrew had purposely excluded him from the invitation. The man couldn’t be more obvious if he tried, but at least if the dislike is mutual, which it clearly is, then Scott doesn’t have to worry about pretending to be his friend.

“Both Scott and I don’t do horror,” Tessa corrects him firmly, surprising both of them with her implicit rejection. She almost sounds… not quite mad, but definitely annoyed on his behalf that he was excluded, and Scott feels a surge of affection for her. “He’s all rom-coms and I like historical fiction and the classics, but if Kaetlyn and Kait want to go then I hope you all have a wonderful time.”

“That’s too bad. I’m pretty good at providing comfort during the scary parts.” Andrew wiggles his eyebrows and Tessa and Kaetlyn both laugh.

“I’m sure you are,” Tessa says, and just like that Scott’s fleeting happiness at her turning down Andrew’s invitation dissipates.

If they’re going to flirt, does it have to be right in front of him?

Or would flirting in secrecy be worse?

Is knowing everything that’s going on better than being in the dark, or more painful?

“Excuse me,” Kait exits her office and joins their little circle, looking confused, “I thought the calendar said we were supposed to have a team planning meeting this morning? Is that what this is?”

“Kait,” Scott greets her warmly, grateful for her sudden appearance and the distraction she provides, “Welcome to your first day! You’re absolutely right. We should be working right now. Tess?” He gestures for Tessa to either begin or, hopefully, kick Andrew out so that they can have their meeting, but she doesn't get the chance to do either of those things.

“Ah yes. What will your first world-saving event be?” Andrew asks. Apparently he doesn’t understand that this is a _Team_ meeting with a capital T, and not something someone outside the company gets to listen to or have a say about. He’s a civilian, not an employee or a client.

But, Scott realizes with a silent groan, he must be the only who feels that way because Kait immediately answers him. “I’ve actually already been thinking about that and what our first charity event should be following the Highbury School fundraiser. I have connections at the Make-A-Wish Foundation, and I know they’re looking for someone to fill in their May slot after their last benefit coordinator pulled out. It’s short notice, only just over two weeks, but they’d appreciate it and it would be a great opportunity.”

“That would be perfect, actually!” Tessa replies, sounding genuinely enthusiastic, “We can handle the limited timeframe now that you’re here.”

She’s trying to get along with Kait, he’ll give her that, and to an outsider there would be no sign of any tension – past or current – between the two women. He owes her a huge bar of her favorite chocolate just for that alone.

“That is a good idea, Kait,” Scott smiles, backing up Tessa’s encouragement and trying to keep the good mood between the two women going, “You’re proving your value already.”

“You know what you should do,” Andrew chimes in, making Scott grit his teeth so tight he can feel the tendons in his jaw flexing.

He’s making suggestions now? Suddenly that's allowed? First he butts in on Suzanne's fundraiser, now this?

“A bachelor auction. The theme could be ‘Wish for the Perfect Date’ and all the proceeds would go to the kids. It would be fun for the adults, a little sexy,” He winks at Kait, who blushes, adding a little more evidence to Scott’s developing theory, “And I’m sure it would be super popular with the wealthy crowd.”

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate,” Kait frowns despite her pink cheeks, and Scott nods along with her – relieved that someone else in the room seems to be coming to their senses. The idea of auctioning people off for charity seems insensitive, possibly offensive, and, well, Andrew suggested it and he isn’t an employee, so the idea has to be shot down on principle.

“Why not?” Tessa argues, “I think it sounds like fun! We could ask for men and women to volunteer. We’d set strict rules of course about the nature of the dates and what’s acceptable – like consent forms and strict legal papers for the bidders to sign so they understand the dates are entirely platonic.”

“And,” Andrew continues, clearly feeding off of her enthusiasm, “You should let the bachelors and bachelorettes plan the dates themselves. It could be part of the package that people bid on. Like, Tess, you could volunteer and offer to take them out to dinner and give free lifestyle advice.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be a bachelorette,” Tessa laughs, and Scott lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, “I’d be the one in charge, I can’t exactly be up on stage. But I love that idea! We could ask people who have famous professions or useful skill sets that would help entice bidders.”

"Well if you’re not volunteering then I guess I’ll have to,” Andrew shoots back, “Mark me down as your first bachelor.”

"Excellent!” Tessa turns towards Kait who looks almost horrified at what she’d caused, but it’s too late now. Scott can tell when a plan is in motion, and standing in the way of Tessa’s plans rarely ends well. “Kait call your contacts at Make-A-Wish and let’s get moving forward with this. Kaetlyn, start putting together a list of anyone who might be able or interested in volunteering. Ooh! Ask Gabby. She’s recently single and can offer something ballet related like a backstage tour of the Four Seasons Centre. Scott, start putting together a budget.”

It’s the perfect opportunity to get out of there, and Scott takes it – escaping towards the relative safety of his office. It’s been a weird, uncomfortable, and slightly nauseating morning, and he’s ready to move past it and try to forget it ever happened.

Although he can’t forget it, because now he’s got a whole budget to create for a giant fundraiser that will probably end up being ten times bigger than his initial estimate and that includes auctioning off actual human beings.

Thank god Tessa won’t be one of them. There’s no way he could stand by and watch a bunch of men (no doubt there would be many) bid on her. They’d only be doing it because she’s hot, not because they love the way she smiles so big and laughs with her whole body, or the way her hair smells like strawberries, or the little crease between her eyebrows when she’s focusing on something, and definitely not because of her big brain and even bigger heart.

The whole thing is so shallow. It’s like tinder in real life – shout out a price if you want to swipe right! Who would willingly put themselves on display at that kind of thing?

Well, except Andrew, of course. His arrogance could survive even the lowest bid.

Scott looks up at the sound of Tessa’s heels click-clacking down the hallway floor, and he calls out her name without thinking.

_Maybe I can still change her mind. We could auction off shelter animals or something. Pets that need a good home._

“How’s the budget coming?” Tessa walks into his office and sits down on the edge of his desk with a cheery smile, leaning forward to glance at the mostly empty Excel sheets open on his computer. He’s only just started, so he knows that she knows there won’t be much to tell her yet. Scott knows an attempted distraction when he sees one.

"An auction? Really, Virtch?” He says instead of answering her question, and Tessa pouts – disappointed that her attempt at evasion didn’t work.

"It’ll be fun. It’s a cute theme, we’ll raise money for a good cause, and people will enjoy themselves. Why don’t you like it?”

“It just seems weird to be auctioning off _people_ for charity.”

“We’re not auctioning people, we’re offering a whole package. Think of it more like bidding on lessons with an expert and maybe dinner. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

“I guess when you put it that way,” Scott hesitates. Maybe she does have a point. Bidding on learning a new skill would be okay, and it’s actually useful, which is always a good thing. “It’s not so bad. I don’t have to bid, do I?”

“Of course not,” Tessa reassures him and he breathes a sigh of relief. That is, until a slow, mischievous smile spreads across her cheeks, making him swallow nervously. He knows that look. Something bad is about to happen.

“But you could be bid on.”

Scott full on laughs, a deep sound that rumbles through his chest and sends him keeling over in his chair. The idea of him acting as a bachelor is absurd! She has to be joking. “Yeah, no thanks. Just because we’re doing an auction doesn’t mean I need to be in it.”

“But you’re a catch!” Tessa insists, and while normally he’d preen under the compliment, in this particular context he doesn’t appreciate it. “And the more people we have signed up when we start recruiting, the more others will be willing to join. It wouldn’t look good to ask a stranger to be the first volunteer. No one wants to be the only one.” 

“Not doing it,” Scott states as soon as she stops for breath, shaking his head emphatically. There’s nothing that could make the mortification of prancing around on stage while a group of rich people decides his monetary value worth it.

“Andrew’s doing it, and you’ll get just as many bids as he will, maybe more.” Tessa says with a voice as sweet as honey, but Scott scoffs and answers her with as much sarcasm as he can muster.

"Well that convinced me! What am I waiting for?”

“Come on, it’ll be good for our business. Get our faces out there.”

“You’re the one who likes that stuff, T, and you're objectively much prettier than I am. Why don’t you do it?”

“I already explained that since I’m managing the event I can’t be one of the bachelorettes.” Tessa sits back further on his desk and folds her arms, wiggling her ass a little to emphasize that she’s not moving from that spot until he agrees, and while he’s briefly distracted by the motion, it isn’t enough to put him off his course.

“So you want me to humiliate myself instead?”

“Scott, you’re great with people. Funny, charming, charismatic, and quite good looking when you aren’t giving me that face you’re pulling right now.”

"Thanks.” His voice is completely deadpan as he twists his face into something even more tortured, trying and mostly succeeding not to smile when she laughs.

“I’m serious. Any woman would be lucky to go on a date with you. You’ll easily be the most sought after man there. All you’ll have to do is teach some woman a crash course on financial planning and that’s it. Easy-peasy.”

"Financial planning?” Now hold on just a minute. It’s one thing for her to joke about his appeal, it’s another thing entirely to insinuate that he doesn’t know how to plan a proper date. Scott sits back, affronted, “That’s the best date you think I can come up with?”

“That’s all I see you do at work,” Tessa teases, reaching out and gently flicking his ear, “And your Fridays are spent watching movies with me and I’d really rather not invite some strange woman to join us, so yes?”

He would prefer that, too – movie night is sacrosanct – but those aren’t the only two things he knows how to do! “I’m insulted. I can do much better than that.”

"Then prove it and sign up.”

“Fine!” Scott throws his hands out in defiance, smacking her knees on purpose in the process, and Tessa laughs. “I will. But you owe me, Virtch. Movie night picks for the next three months.”

“Next two months,” Tessa counter-offers, sticking out her hand to make the deal, and Scott shakes it firmly.

“Done.”

“Don’t forget to wear a tux,” She hops off his desk and calls out over her shoulder in a sing-song voice, “And leave the hair gel at home.”

It’s only after she’s waltzed out of the room that he realizes what just happened.

She played him like a fiddle without so much as batting an eyelid, and he fell for it hook line and sinker. He said yes. To being a bachelor. To being _bid_ on by a group of unknown women and men. This is not going to end well.

_Shit._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here, thank you for continuing to read this story. The auction is next! :)


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bachelor auction!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This coincides with chapter 11 of EKOM.

** slapshot **

****

This is bullshit.

Not the charity fundraiser itself, of course, because that’s unmistakably a good thing, and so far it’s going even better than expected. There’s plenty of guests, good food, and the promise of thousands of dollars raised for the Make-A-Wish foundation, and there’s even a Michael Bublé tribute band, “Bublé Baths” (he’d laughed about that through their entire audition), crooning _Crazy Love_ in the corner – a song with lyrics Scott can relate to all too well.

No, what’s bullshit is that he’s in an ill-fitting tux and shiny leather shoes that pinch his feet and preparing to be auctioned off to the highest bidder like he’s no better than a stud horse on a farm in Alberta. There’s even a catalog that’s been handed out to all the attendees with his face and a bio inside.

_And for an entrée this evening we have Scott Moir and he comes with your choice of soup or salad to start!_

He’d said he would do it so he’ll play his part, but he’s going to bug Tessa at every opportunity as punishment for this. And he’s only going to choose cliché guy movies for the next two months. _Fight Club, Bloodsport_ , the _Rocky_ movies, _The Godfather_. She better be prepared. No Audrey Hepburn movies until _at least_ August, no matter how much she begs.

“This is perfect,” The offender herself, the bane of this evening’s existence, says beside him, her eyes wide and sparkling with unfettered delight, and he takes extra care to steel his heart against her. How dare she be so cute when she’s putting him up for sale like this?

She ignores her salad in favor of beaming at the room around them, and Scott steals a couple of her croutons – just for good measure. He’s earned it.

“I’ll admit,” He says begrudgingly, “As much as I’m dreading what’s going to happen later, this is pretty impressive.”

He might be peeved with her, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve a compliment for a job well done.

Only one though. That’s it. Then he’s back to punishing her.

“Isn’t it? We’re going to raise so much money tonight.”

“So much that I don’t need to be auctioned off?” He asks hopefully, making one last ditch effort to get out of this. He can see the recently divorced Eve Warwick making eyes at him from across the room, and it has his feet itching to run in the opposite direction.

Unfortunately, instead of letting him off the hook, Tessa just rolls her eyes and smirks, clearly enjoying this far more than she should, and Scott suspects his brothers may be involved in her plans somehow. The gleam in her eye is just a little bit too wicked, and he know's she is always looking out for ways to get back at him for the pranks he pulled on her when they were kids.

And in high school.

And maybe also in college.

And maybe last week when he swapped out her vanilla pudding with mayonnaise.

"Can I bid on myself?” He tries a different tactic, inching his hand towards one of the paddles laying in the middle of the table. There isn’t a ton of money in his checking account, but the bid probably won’t go that high. He’s sure he has more than enough to cover it. But her hand covers his and stops him.

“And what – go on a date with your right hand? Or would you prefer the left?” She’s already laughing before she’s finished the joke and Scott can feel his ears burning. She’s hit a little too close to home with that statement. He may have done that very thing in the shower that morning in preparation for seeing her all dressed up tonight – and he’s glad he did because her off-the-shoulder black dress accentuates her cleavage perfectly, threatening to drive him to distraction – and hearing her tease him about it has him squirming in his seat.

“Tessa Virtue, I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Are you telling me to get a grip?” She cocks her head and gives him a tongue-touched smile and _oh god_ he’s starting to get hard.

She’s flirting with him.

Flirting about _hand jobs_.

He might actually, literally, pass out.

It’s not like they never joke about sex or make innuendos, but they don’t really joke about _each other_ and apparently, as evidenced by his body’s reaction, that makes a pretty big difference.

Her uncontrollable giggles are too infectious to resist though, and Scott dissolves into laughter alongside her just as Midori and Alex take their seats at the table – looking at them both like they’re insane.

"What are you two laughing about? Do you need a hand getting yourselves under control?” Midori’s just being sarcastic, but the accidental double-entendre sets Tessa off again and she collapses into his side, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

"You two are ridiculous. Are you drunk already?”

"We’re sorry Midori,” Tessa tries to stop giggling long enough to apologize, but she accidentally snorts and that makes Scott start laughing again, which then sets her off – continuing the delightfully vicious cycle. Peals of laughter ringing out across the room that catch the attention of more than a few donors. “Sometimes it’s just hard to stop once you’ve started, you know?”

He groans where he’d buried his face into her neck – his own attempt at regaining control - and Tessa laughs again. She’s going to kill him before the night is through. This blend of adorable and sexy is almost more than he can take.

“I swear you two are like children sometimes,” Midori shakes her head in affectionate exasperation and Scott can feel Tessa’s jaw move against his forehead as she grins at their friend.

“Thank heavens we’re not, otherwise how could I plan your bachelorette party?”

“Are you sure you still want to do that?” Midori asks, “I know you’re busy with your new charity events and planning my wedding. It’s a lot to take on and it’s coming up fast.”

“Of course I do! I’m the maid of honor and I take that very seriously.” Tessa sits up straighter and Scott tries not to whine or make a face when’s he’s forced to lift his head from her shoulder. He’d been enjoying the impromptu cuddle, even if he can see the surreptitious little glances Alex keeps shooting him, and he keeps his hand cupped around her opposite shoulder, just because he can – massaging the base of her neck when she leans in closer.

“It’s going to be the party of the century!”

“We could just have brunch,” Midori suggests, and Scott snorts under his breath. As if Tessa would ever let that pass for a bachelorette party for her best friend. She’s probably already planned a night of booze and tiaras and strippers.

“No way. I mean, of course we can do brunch if you have to, I would love that, but we’re also going clubbing.”

“I don’t want to be hungover on my wedding day.”

“Midori, would I ever let that happen?”

“I suppose not.”

“It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

“What about us, Alex?” Scott leans forward, purposely pressing more of himself into Tessa’s side as he does. She’s being so touchy-feely tonight, he might as well press his luck and return the favor. Maybe she really _is_ flirting with him, and if so, he’d be a fool not to flirt back.

“I’m not sure yet. My brother is planning it and he tends to leave things to the last minute, but probably just drinks and pool at the bar. I don’t want to be hungover either.”

Midori laces her fingers with Alex’s and kisses him tenderly on the cheek, as if his statement is something to reward, and he turns his head to press a firm kiss to her lips.

It’s a cute moment, one that Scott would hardly take notice of if not for the fact that for some reason the gesture makes Tessa tense up, and he glances at her in concern.

She looks sort of… sad. And maybe a little jealous as well. If she’s envious of them, does that mean she’s feeling ready to find a relationship for herself? And is her current business partner a potential option? He sure hopes so.

“More wine, T?” He rubs his hand up and down her arm, pressing his lips together to stifle a smile when she leans into the action.

_That’s encouraging._

“Yes, please.”

“You’ll have that someday,” He murmurs quietly while he pours, fighting the urge to add on that that day could be today – this very minute – if she wants. “Don’t worry.”

“Who’s worried?” She jokes and clinks her glass against his, but her smile still isn’t reaching her eyes. He needs to fix that.  

“Maybe you should have been the bachelorette tonight instead of me. Then your true love could bid on you.” He tickles her ribs and Tessa laughs and squirms away, dark cloud lifted.

_I would have bid on her_ , he thinks with a silent surety. He’d have waited until the end and then swooped in with a winning bid that couldn’t be topped, no matter the cost. What better way to send the message loud and clear that he wants to date her than by declaring it in front of a room of hundreds of people?

“And deprive you of this opportunity? Not a chance.”

Damn.

Out of the corner of his eye Scott can see Andrew and Kait having an animated discussion across the room, and he figures now would be a good opportunity to pick Tessa’s brain and get her opinion on his suspicions about the two of them. Surely she must have noticed something as well, since she’s the expert.

“Hey, speaking of, do you think there’s something between Andrew and Kaitlyn?” He flicks his head towards the other couple. Andrew’s smiling like he’s trying to coax something out of Kait, while she folds her arms over her chest and shakes her head.

“What? No way!” Tessa shakes her head in synchronization with Kait and huffs out a little laugh, turning to look at them in disbelief.

“I just thought I felt a vibe,” Scott presses, “Caught some secret looks or something between them every once in a while when they think no one is looking.” He might not be a matchmaker like her (barring his feeble attempt with Trennt and Kaetlyn), but he has two eyes and likes to think he’s fairly good at reading people. They definitely have a history, if nothing else.

“Secret looks?” Tessa arches her eyebrow at him with a snort, and something about her tone sets his teeth on edge. “No, trust me. There’s no way he’s into her.”

She sounds so confident, but how could she know that? How could she be so sure? Unless…

“And you’re sure about that because…?” His voice trails off as he fixes his eyes on her, hoping to see some signs of doubt, but finding none.

“Andrew would have told me.” She states confidently, and his heart sinks.

“Because you tell each other everything,” Scott rolls his eyes and leans away from her to hide his growing panic.

Her confidence implies insider knowledge, and the only way she’d have insider knowledge about that specific topic is if she and Andrew had a reason to discuss it. Is there something more going on here? Does she have another reason for her adamant denial that she’s not telling him? He’s so used to sharing everything with her (well, except his true feelings of course, but that's beside the point), it never even occurred to him that she might be keeping secrets.

“No, we don’t, but he wouldn’t – I don’t know, just trust me. It doesn’t make sense.”

She lets out a little laugh and Scott stabs at his steak harder than necessary, his fork screeching across the fine china like nails on a chalkboard, making him cringe. “I do trust you, Tess, I’m just telling you what I saw.”

How did this night turn around in such a fast one-eighty? They’d been having such a good time and he’d thought… well clearly he must have thought wrong. It wasn’t flirtation, it was just Tessa being her usual friendly self. It didn’t mean anything. And there’s something she’s not telling him about Andrew, that much is certain.

His collar feels too tight, constricting around his throat, and he digs two fingers into the band to try and provide a modicum of relief. The jacket tugs tight at the elbow in the new position, the snug fit pinching painfully, and he shifts around in discomfort.

“Well clearly you saw wrong,” Tessa says with conviction, digging the knife in deeper, and Scott wonders if stabbing himself with the steak knife would hurt less than this. It would certainly be faster than this death by a thousand cuts she’s inflicting upon him with each vague implication about Andrew.

“Okay.” It’s all he can manage to say, shredding his steak to a pulp, and he can feel her eyes boring a hole in the side of his head, but he ignores her.

“I have to go start the auction. Um, good luck, I guess, on your turn.”

The auction. Right. Will she be the true love that bids on Andrew?

“Thanks.”

She stands up to go, waiting for a moment as if she’s expecting him to say something, but he resolutely stares at the hunk of meat on his plate like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen and he doesn’t exhale and look up until she’s walking towards the stage.

“Is something wrong?” Midori leans over the vacant chair to whisper at him, and Scott just shakes his head and downs half of his glass of water in one go before getting up to go join the other bachelors and bachelorettes lining up by the side of the stage.

“Good evening everyone!” Tessa begins, looking very poised and using her most professional tone of voice, “On behalf of the Virtuous Lifestyle Group, I would like to thank you all so much for coming tonight to help us raise money for such an honorable cause. The Make-A-Wish Foundation does so much good for kids around the world, and tonight when you make your own wish for the perfect date, you’ll be helping a child receive their dream as well. Without further ado, it is my pleasure to introduce to you the head of the Toronto branch of the Make-A-Wish Foundation, Mr. Elvis Stojko!”

"Thank you, thank you!” Elvis jumps on the stage with more vim and vigor than a man his age has any right to possess, gripping Tessa’s hand in a firm handshake and taking the microphone away from her with a grin, “On behalf of the Make-A-Wish Foundation, I’d like to thank all of you for coming tonight, and Miss Tessa Virtue for organizing this event for us on such short notice. She really has made all of our wishes come true.”       

There’s a round of applause and Tessa waves graciously before making her way quickly from the stage and back to her seat – leaving Elvis to run wild with his job as auctioneer and MC. Scott watches as she finds his chair empty and looks around for him, but he quickly looks back at Elvis before she can catch his eye.

"When life-changing wishes are granted, a wish effect occurs. The wish allows children battling critical illnesses to build the hope and strength they need to fight harder and see the impossible become possible. Research shows wishes can give these children a higher chance of survival. And, it’s why health professionals often use a wish as part of their treatment plan, because wishes can build compliance with care and potentially give their patients a better chance of reducing time spent in the hospital. There is nothing more powerful than a child's wish – that's the wish effect.” Elvis gets interrupted by another burst of applause and Scott joins in with a polite clap of his own.

_Can we please just get this over with?_ He mutters to himself with a groan, only realizing it was audible when a few people at the table nearby glance at him. He’s going last, and as much as he supports this cause, he’d really prefer if they could move through the introductions as fast as possible. His preferred method for dealing with a fight with Tess is to go for a run, and he can’t do that in these shoes.

“So tonight we’d like to help make your wishes come true by auctioning off dates with these incredibly eligible bachelors and bachelorettes. You can’t go wrong with any one of them folks, so feel free to bid and bid loud. And remember ladies and gentlemen, this is a fun, innocent, charity event. The dates have no obligation beyond the agreed upon appointment. It is expected that bachelors and bachelorettes will follow through on their dates. However, if they are made to feel uncomfortable or threatened at any time, they may end the date early. The comfort and safety of the auction participants is key.”

God, he hopes that’s true. The thought hadn’t really occurred to him, but now that Elvis has pointed it out he _really_ hope he doesn’t get stuck with somebody who thinks this date will be anything other than strictly professional.

The bidding begins and the first few people fetch decent prices, which is a nice validation of the whole auction idea, but then Andrew struts across the stage like he’s God’s gift to women – wiggling his fingers at Tess – and Scott’s back to cursing the whole thing.

Elvis lifts the mic again and begins to introduce him, “Andrew Poje is thirty years old, he has an undergraduate degree in biomedical science from the University of Waterloo and recently returned from a humanitarian trip to Cambodia. He enjoys working out, loves classic movies, classic cartoons, and classic rock, and is a total foodie. If you win the bid on Andrew tonight, you will be treated to a culinary tour of Toronto including a stop at Paris, Paris - a wine bar for the ages.”

Immediately there are women jumping out of their seats to raise their paddles, each one getting a smile in return from Andrew that’s somehow both grateful and sinful –  which only drives the price higher. Their enthusiasm increasing even more when he blows kisses towards them as well. He even winks at Kait, and Scott makes a mental note of both the action and the response, despite Tessa’s earlier protestations.

Scott keeps expecting to hear Tessa’s voice calling out a bid, but it never comes, and when Elvis shouts, “Going once!” and Andrew looks towards her, she merely holds up her empty hands and shrugs.

That’s something at least. Not enough to make him rest easy tonight, but enough to help him relax a little right now and unclench his teeth. If she had bid on him it would have felt like the proverbial nail in the coffin.

In the end Andrew’s won by a nice looking middle-aged woman for eighteen hundred dollars. It’s the highest bid out of anybody, and Scott’s sure Andrew’s head just inflated another two sizes – rolling his eyes when Andrew hops off the stage to run over and give the woman a kiss on her cheek.

“How are you holding up over here?” Kait walks over to join him, interrupting his thoughts, and Scott’s grateful for the distraction - smiling his first genuine smile in over forty-five minutes.

“Not well. If there was ever a time to pull a Sam Johnson, it would be now.”

Kait throws her head back and laughs at the memory, and Scott grins at having gotten the reaction he wanted. Sam Johnson had been in their economics class at Western and one day the teacher had called on him to answer a question, slamming his hand down on the boy’s desk to wake him up. He’d been so startled that instead of replying, the poor guy had panicked and jumped out of the window by his desk. The story spread like wildfire across campus, turning him into a legend even though he’d dropped out two weeks later and bought a food truck.

"Just say the word and I’ll provide a distraction. Tip over an ice sculpture or something.”

“Spill your water on a dignitary?” He smirks and she swats his shoulder, attempting to glare at him.

“Hey! You promised never to mention that again. It’s still the worst date of my life.”

“Sorry,” Scott chuckles, not sorry at all, “I would have made it up to you, but you broke up with me.”

“Oh, you’re not mad about that." She waves her hand dismissively, "You were pining – you knew just as well as I did that we work much better as friends.”

“Yeah,” He smiles, choosing to ignore her slip up and its uncomfortable implications, “I won’t argue about that.”

Kait smiles softly back at him and gently places her hand on his arm, “Seriously though, are you okay with this? Going up there, I mean?”

“It’ll be fine,” Scott shrugs, “I’ll just be happy when it’s over.”

Gabby walks onstage next in a knee-length midnight blue dress with mesh sleeves, catching both their attention, and Scott nods in approval. She looks very pretty, and he’s glad she’s putting herself out there after the whole Ryan-the-Asshole fiasco. He hadn’t been sure about her when they’d first met, but she’s joined him and Tess for lunch a few times now and he’s come to appreciate her humor and her political insights and biting social commentary.

“Gabriella Papadakis is the principle ballerina at the National Ballet of Canada in Toronto. Originally from Paris, famously referred to as the city of love,” Elvis winks at the audience, “She’s been enjoying getting to know Canada over the past few months. She’ll be making her debut in Swan Lake later this year. She is passionate about literature, theatre, and philosophy. A date with Gabby will include a private backstage tour of the Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts and dinner at Alo where she will teach you some French. Ooh la la!”

The winning bidder is an attractive young man named Brett Rees, and Scott risks glancing at Tessa to find her already scheming away. He knows because she gets a particular look on her face, sort of like she’s swallowed a lemon, but is happy about it, that means she’s coming up with ways to influence their match. Another successful romantic connection to add to her list.

“Now it’s time for our last bachelor of the night. Come up here, Scott!”

Swallowing down the rising bile in his throat, Scott shakes himself and straightens his tie, putting on the mask that always gets him through uncomfortable public events. Goofball, charismatic, and outgoing – these are the traits that will see him through. He can do this. The sooner it’s over, the sooner he can go for that run.

Just because he didn’t want to do this, doesn’t mean he’s going to slump onstage like a grouch. He dances across the stage, doing a foot-slide thing to try and at least resemble someone cool, and it must work because the audience seems enthusiastic – laughing with him instead of at him. He hadn’t expected anyone to cheer, and he won’t deny that the sound of it goes to his head a little bit, making him act out a little bit more.

“Scott Moir is twenty-nine years old and is a championship-winning ballroom dancer who now works as a finance manager at The Virtuous Lifestyle Group – the company that so graciously agreed to host this event tonight. He enjoys hockey, is an avid Leafs fan, and loves red wine and jazz when cooking dinner,” Elvis reads off the cue card and Scott struggles with what to do with his arms now that he’s standing still. Shoving them into his pockets seems too casual, and folding them over his chest seems too closed off. Why has he forgotten how to stand at the worst possible time?

Tessa’s probably laughing and filming all of this to send to Danny and Charlie so that all three of them can torture him later.

“A date with him includes dance lessons in whatever style you want, although he’s partial to the tango,” Elvis winks at the audience and Scott grins at their response. Dancing is always attractive.  

Jazz. Wine. Tango. See, Tess? He knows how to appeal to women, even if he is goofy and a bit of a dork sometimes.

“And dinner at Abruzzi,” Elvis finishes, and as soon as he’s done speaking the paddles start going up quickly – much faster than Scott had expected. He’d thought he would get one or two bids at most, maybe three if he’s lucky.

It’s Kaetlyn’s shy voice that is the third bid, surprising him even further. He didn’t even know she’d signed up to donate, but it’s nice of her to offer some moral support, and Scott shoots her a grateful smile, even though she’s immediately out bid by someone else.

The bidding moves fast and Scott full on laughs when local radio host Johnny Weir joins in the fray. That would be an interesting dance lesson. Does he teach him the guy part, or the girl’s?

“Fifteen hundred dollars!” Midori calls out, and he smiles at her as well. She wouldn’t be a bad option either. In fact, they could just consider it prep for her first dance at her wedding reception. Maybe invite Alex along so that they can work up something special.

Johnny shakes his head in response to her bid and sets his paddle down, indicating that he won’t go any higher, and Elvis starts to count off. But before he can get to three another woman holds up her panel.

“Sixteen hundred!”

Eve Warwick. The woman he’d feared might do something like this. She’s an old client of Tessa’s who had the awkward habit of attempting to flirt with him whenever she came into the office, despite his polite yet persistent attempts to rebuff her.

Her manicured nails grip the handle of the panel like blood red claws, her smile toothy and lascivious, and Scott swallows nervously. Somehow he knows if she wins she won’t be satisfied with learning to waltz, and she definitely won’t be abiding to the contract about bachelor consent, either.

She already looks like she wants to quickstep with him straight to a hotel room.

“Seventeen hundred!” Midori counterbids, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Good, wonderful, faithful Midori. He owes her a fruit basket.

"Nineteen hundred!” Eve shouts back.

_Shit._

That’s higher than any other bid tonight and the chances of someone saving him are slim. He looks to Midori for hope, only to find her shaking her head at Tessa and setting her paddle down.

_Double shit._

“Going once.” Elvis raises his gavel, his voice booming through the microphone with way too much glee than the situation rightfully deserves, “Going twice…”

Scott clamps his eyes shut tight, waiting for the fall of the gavel and the sealing of his fate, but instead a voice desperately calls out, “Two thousand!”

His eyes fly open and he finds her in an instant, breathing her name in a mixture of delight and shock.

She bid on him.

She bid on _him_!

Tessa looks just as surprised as he feels, meaning she probably didn’t mean to do it, but that’s almost better. It means she couldn’t help herself. Couldn’t _resist_. He could jump off the stage and kiss her right now, audience be damned.

“Two thousand-five hundred!” Comes Eve’s shrill cry, but he barely hears her, too caught up in watching the love of his life’s every move. Any irritation from earlier flying out the window in the face of her magnificent gesture.

Tessa looks determined now, fighting off Midori’s attempt to stop her and squaring her shoulders with iron-clad resolve. Every piece of her looking like she’s gearing up for battle – one she intends to win.

“Three!” She counters, and Eve immediately shouts back, “Four!”

“Ladies, ladies,” Elvis laughs, interceding with a smile, “Slow down and let me do my job. I’m not sure you quite understand how this is supposed to work. You only need to up your bids by one hundred dollars at a time –“

“Six!” Tessa cuts him off without hesitation and Scott grins at her even though she’s refusing to look at him. It’s as if she thinks by not looking at him he won’t know what she’s doing. _Ha!_

“Six thousand-five hundred,” Eve’s voice wavers, the five hundred dollar downsizing of her bid painfully obvious. She’s lagging, clearly losing confidence now that the price has gone so high, and he knows what’s coming next.

It’s like watching a movie unfold in slow motion. Tessa’s green eyes flashing, her lips spreading into a triumphant smile, the audience holding its breath, before her voice rings out loud and clear as a bell, “Eight thousand dollars!”

Holy _FUCK._

There are several shocked gasps and the audience is alive with the buzz of gossip and speculation and Eve’s face has gone as red as her hair in a fit of rage while Tessa beams. Victory radiating off of her in waves. She looks almost as happy as she did on top of the podium when they won their first international ballroom competition, only this time he gets to be the medal.

“Any other takers?” Elvis sounds almost afraid to ask, slowly holding up his gavel and looking around the room once more before saying, “Eight thousand going once…”

Eve throws her paddle to the floor where it snaps in half, making a noise of disgust as she stomps away, and Scott laughs at the spectacle before turning back to Tessa. Her triumphant grin has somewhat faded now that reality is sinking in, she looks like she’s just been hit over the head, and he chuckles.

She definitely didn’t plan this, and he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth.

“Eight thousand going twice. Sold to Miss Tessa Virtue! Let’s have a big round of applause for that one! That concludes our auction ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy your desserts, feel free to dance, and for you lucky winners – now’s the time to start getting to know your dates.”

Scott jumps off the stage as soon as Elvis is done talking and starts heading directly for Tess. She’s having what looks to be a very intense conversation with Alex and Midori, but surely they won’t mind if he steals her away.

But the moment Tessa sees him she jumps up and scurries away in the opposite direction, making a beeline for the bathroom where he can’t follow (not without a lot of awkwardness, anyway), and he freezes.

If it’s space she wants, he’ll give it to her, but if she thinks she can avoid him forever though, she’s wrong. First they’re going to talk about this, and then he’s going to take her on the best date she’s ever had and prove to her that she can have with Midori & Alex have - maybe even better.

 

 

It’s not forever, but she does succeed in avoiding him until the event is over and most of the other guests have left. Finding a million excuses to stay hidden or talk to other people so that he can’t interrupt her without being rude.

He’s almost given up hope until he remembers the coat check room. She’d left her purse and jacket in there, which means she’ll have to retrieve it before she can leave. It’s the perfect opportunity to confront her, and he walks down the hallway with a bounce in his step and a jaunty little tune whistling through his lips.

Her things are the last ones left and Scott picks them up, grabbing the purse and tossing the coat over his arm before exiting the room – walking out just in time to find Tessa heading in his direction. Perfect.

“Scott!” She jumps in surprise, her eyes darting around as she scrambles to find an escape route, her cheeks already turning pink. “I thought you’d gone home.”

“Why? Avoiding me, Virtch?” He smirks and hands over her items, laughing to himself when she audibly gulps and refuses to meet his gaze.

She’s _nervous._ It’s nice not being the nervous one for a change. Nervous is good. If she’d done this as simply a friendly action or as a generous donation to the cause, she’d have no reason to be embarrassed and awkward around him, right? So the fact that she is is a good sign.

“No. I was just making sure everything got cleaned up properly.”

_Uh huh, sure_. He doesn’t believe that for a second.

“You know,” He starts, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning up against the wall with what can only be described as a shit-eating grin on his face, “If you wanted to go on a date with me, T, you could have just asked instead of spending so much money.”

"I was making a very generous charitable donation,” She turns up her nose and tries to step around him, but he pushes off the wall and blocks her path.

“Are you sure it had nothing to do with Eve Warwick?” _And maybe that you were jealous at the idea of someone else dating me_ , he adds on silently, hoping that he’s right.

“Scott,” Tessa puts her hands on her hips and looks at him sternly, “Are you suggesting that I was driven by pettiness and not the goodness of my heart?”

He grins even wider and doesn’t say anything – the implication clear – laughing when she slugs his shoulder.

“Ow!” He rubs at the spot and chuckles, “Okay, okay, I’ll let you believe that your motives were entirely pure.”

“They were!”

“Eve tried to bid on Mike Pruitt, too, but I didn’t see you rushing to his defense.” He's got her there, and she tries unsuccessfully to brush it off. 

“Can’t a girl do something nice for her friend?”

“Something nice would be replacing my colander you broke last week, not spending thousands of dollars for me to take you dancing. I’ve got my work cut out for me now to make this date worth it. Are you expecting me to put out?” He grins and even tries to smolder a little, and her face flushes bright red.

Serves her right for making hand job jokes earlier. Not that he won’t put out on their date if she wants him to though, because that's a no brainer. 

“Scott!” She swats his chest much harder than she’d hit his arm, her blush deepening and spreading down her neck and chest, and he laughs to smother the strangled noise that threatens to break free. _How low does it go?_

“We’re not going on a date!” It’s a desperate attempt for her to save face, he knows, but there’s no way he’s letting her off that easy. This is happening.

“Um, yes we are.” She’s handed him a golden opportunity here. He’s not going to waste it. “That was literally the exact thing you were bidding on.”

“Yeah, but I was just trying to win – I mean donate,” She corrects herself before he can say anything, but it’s enough that she almost said it. “We don’t actually have to go through with it.”

“It was a binding contract. You heard Mr. Stojko at the beginning. I’m contractually obligated to take you out.”

“Can’t we just do a double-feature movie night and count that?”

Great. She’s insulting his dating ability again. Scott’s not sure what he ever did to give her the impression that he doesn’t know how to plan an outing with the opposite sex, but that’s going to have to change.

"I’m trying really hard not to be offended here, kiddo. What’s a guy supposed to think? You bid a lot of money, seem determined to win me, then try to back out of your end of the bargain at the first chance.” He tries to pout, but it doesn’t last long – his lips curving back up into a smile in no time. He still can't get over the fact that she even bid on him in the first place.

“No, no. It’s not about you. Dates are just stilted and awkward and you and I already know everything about each other.”

_Not everything._ There are quite a few things he’d still like to learn about her.

“Not our date,” Scott replies confidently, “Ours will be epic. Let me prove it to you.”

“Scott,” Tessa shakes her head, “You really don’t have to.”

“Tess, I really do.” He insists, and he can tell her resolve is weakening when she sighs.

“Alright, fine. You can take me on a date.”

“Awesome.” He perks up, pleased with himself, “Wednesday night. I’ll pick you up at six.”

“That’s my birthday.”

“I know.” He resists rolling his eyes and grins instead. As if he’d ever forget her birthday. May seventeenth, nineteen-eighty-nine. Is he right? Of course he is. He knows what he’s doing.

He helps her put on her jacket before tugging her arm in his and leading her out towards the parking lot, swinging their arms between them and whistling again. Tessa looks like she’s not quite sure what to do with herself now, but Scott’s walking on sunshine.

She just spent eight-fucking-thousand dollars on the opportunity to go out with him. What could be a bigger, better sign than that? This is literally the best night of his life.

 

He’s going to make this a date to remember.

 

           


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Tessa go on their date. Poor boy is very confused by it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter coincides with chapter 12 of EKOM.

** playmaker **

****

Scott’s trying his best not to panic. Really, he is.

He tries not to panic when he accidentally over-gels his hair, turning himself into a 1950’s greaser without any of the cool parts like a leather jacket or motorcycle, and has to stick his head under the faucet for a few minutes to rinse it all out so that he can start over.

He tries not to panic when his car engine takes a few extra seconds to turn over while starting up, convincing him that the battery had died and he’d have to take an Uber before finally roaring to life.

And he tries not to panic when he forgets his wallet and has to turn back to retrieve it after already making it almost all the way to Tessa’s house – nearly making him late.

But it’s hard when the second hand on his watch is ticking so loudly, thundering in his ears like the world's loudest metronome, reminding him that not only did this single date cost more than he makes in a month, but all of his hopes and dreams are riding on tonight being absolutely perfect.   

He’s been in love with Tessa for years, but he’s never been on an actual _real_ date with her before. The timing has never been right to ask her out. Either he was seeing someone or she was or life just got too busy. But now this opportunity has fallen into his lap (okay, it was bought and paid for for charity, but still) and he means to make the most of it.

This date has to go well, and the knowledge that it has to go well – the _pressure –_ is making him sweat. Which isn’t exactly the look he’s going for. He’s had to take two showers already and now he’s blasting the A/C in his car as he drives to Tessa’s house to try and combat any unsightly dark spots spreading under his arms. Nothing is attractive about a date who shows up dripping perspiration onto the floor.

(If there’s going to be any perspiring, he’d prefer it’s together.)

(Dancing, of course.)

The problem is, he’s seen the kind of guys Tessa has dated before. Fancy men with fancy suits who always look put together in every situation. Men like Ryan Semple and Andrew Poje who ooze charm and professionalism. She’d even had one boyfriend show up to a golf double-date in white slacks and a white polo that both managed to stay perfect the entire time – not a single smudge to be seen - while Scott had reached the eighteenth hole with more than a few grass and mud stains. He’ll never be able to match up to that level of bland perfection.

He just hopes the navy button down shirt and black jeans he’d selected to wear tonight are good enough to impress her and that the pink peonies he’d picked out at the floral shop are still her favorite flower.

The lights are on inside her house when he pulls up in the driveway, and some of his anxiety eases at the confirmation that she didn’t ditch him. Not that she would, but the brain tends to get irrational when dealing with anxiety and part of him had believed he’d show up tonight and find the lights off and a note on the door saying she’d decided to go hang out with her sister or someone else instead.

Scott jams his thumb against the doorbell, shifting his weight uneasily from foot to foot, and dies a little bit inside as he waits for her to answer. Both his anticipation and perspiration increasing exponentially with each second that ticks by between the chime of the bells in her hallway and the door swinging open.

“Geburtstag to the Virtch-dog!” He yells a little too enthusiastically the second she comes into view, holding up the flowers and practically shoving them into her face on accident.

“Thank you,” She giggles, apparently not minding that he almost mauled her with a bunch of petals and stems, “What does that mean?”

She steps aside to give him room to enter and tilts her cheek towards him so that he can lean down to give her his customary peck. Just a perfunctory, friendly kiss to say hello, yet his mind completely blanks as he leans forward. His lips press into her skin and Scott gets lost in a daze thinking _this feels so right, wish it was her lips, am I doing this like normal?_

Thankfully Tessa doesn't seem to notice his unusual behavior, smiling up at him like usual. Totally at ease with the situation in a way that he hopes is encouraging and a sign that she’s into this or excited. Her blasé attitude could either mean she knows this is a real date and is confident that she wants their relationship to develop, or she thinks they’re just going out as friends and still has no idea how he feels.

He hopes it’s the former.

“It means happy birthday in German,” He explains, setting down the flowers on the center of her coffee table and taking a moment to situate them just right, “Well, kind of. The real translation was a bit beyond my skill level.”

That's putting it mildly. She doesn’t need to know that the entire time he’d been in front of the mirror getting ready for tonight, he’d had Siri repeating the phrase over and over so that he could practice along with the robotic female voice, but he’s still not sure he got it entirely correct. There’s probably a German somewhere heavily criticizing his accent and intonation.

“I didn’t know you had a skill level in German.” She sounds impressed, and Scott smiles a little to himself. Impressing your date and the object of your affections is a good thing. They’re off to a pretty good start so far.

“See?” Scott steps back to double-check the way he’d arranged the flowers, satisfied that they’re evenly distributed in the vase and aesthetically pleasing, “We’re already learning new things about each other tonight. Peonies are still your favorite flower though, right?”

“Right,” Tessa smiles softly and Scott grins back at her, although his smile falters at the strange look that flashes in her eyes. Something warm, but almost… confused. He’s not sure if it’s a good look or not, but before he can analyze it further, it’s gone, leaving him to think that he must have imagined it.

“Are you ready to go or did you need to grab anything first? You look beautiful, by the way. I should have said it when I first saw you, but the vase was heavy.” His eyes trace up and down her body, appreciating every curve, every inch of skin teasing out from under the mesh parts of her pretty pink dress. She looks beautiful in every color, but there’s something about Tessa in light pink that’s so flattering and feminine and soft. It makes him want to pull her in for a tight hug and make all sorts of ridiculous promises to keep her safe and warm forever.

“Thank you,” She blushes, her cheeks matching her dress, and does a funny sort of jerking motion with her arms that makes him chuckle silently to himself. Maybe she’s a little nervous, too, which is both endearing and reassuring. “You look very handsome. Is that a new shirt?”

Of course she noticed his outfit. He shouldn't have doubted she would for a second. Scott laughs and nods, “It’s a little freaky that you know my wardrobe so well, but yes, it is.” 

“It's not hard to know your wardrobe when there's so little variety in it," She teases, eyes sparkling and lips quirking up in a teasing smile, "I like it. You should dress up more often.”

“Anything for you kiddo,” He says and she looks pleased, but then he winks and adds, “Anything but that.”

“You and your love of t-shirts and sweats,” Tessa rolls her eyes in exasperation and Scott chuckles, his hand finding hers on instinct and leading her towards the front door.

Oh god, is his hand still sweaty? He really should have checked again before grabbing hers. What if it’s still all clammy and gross and the A/C didn’t do its job cooling it off before he came inside? Holding hands is an important first step on a date, and even though they must have held hands hundreds of thousands of times over the years, suddenly he’s terrified that she’s going to be grossed out by it and he’ll never have a chance to do it again, let alone take things further.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” He says, saying a silent, fervid prayer that his palm doesn’t stick to hers when he lets go to grab the steering wheel.

“Are we really going dancing, then? I wasn’t sure.”

“Of course,” Scott waits patiently while she locks up the house and tugs on the door once to check and make sure it’s shut tight, a habit he made sure she started when she moved out on her own, “That’s what I promised.”

“I didn’t know if you’d change your mind now that it’s me you’re going with, since we’ve already done so much dancing together,” She explains, and Scott shakes his head fondly. As if he could ever get enough of dancing with her. They’d be dancing all time if he had his way and they could get away with it during work.

The sudden image of one of their clients walking in on them doing the polka almost has him snorting out loud.

“There’s no one I’d rather dance with than you, Tess.” He looks at her and smiles, but his breath is stolen away by how beautiful she is in the warm golden glow of the sunset, the colors dancing off her dark hair and highlighting the freckles that dot her forehead and cheeks and nose. It’s cheesy as hell, but he doesn’t think there will ever come a day that he gets tired of looking at her.

Tessa falters under his gaze and trips getting into his Acura, nearly taking Scott with her, but he manages to wrap his arm around her waist and grab her elbow – keeping them both standing. “You okay there, T? Are you going to be able to stay upright on the dance floor?”

“Oh ha, ha, ha.” She shrugs him off and climbs into the car, ducking her head to try and hide her burning cheeks, but he catches them anyway and presses his lips together to hide his enjoyment of her awkwardness.

Scott turns on the radio while they drive, fiddling with the controls until he finds a country station singing a love song that he likes. He's hoping to set the mood, but Tessa groans loudly and predictably in protest.

"Not country music, please."

"My car, my rules," Scott states bluntly like he always does when they drive anywhere in his car, "Deal with it." It’s both an unspoken and spoken rule they’ve had since he turned sixteen that whoever is driving gets to pick the music, and he isn’t about to let it go now just because she’d prefer something a little more mainstream.

 

_When you put two and two together_

_You figure out love's got four letters_

_I shoulda known that when I met her_

_But she had to spell it out for me_

 

"It's too cheesy!" Tessa complains loudly, but Scott ignores her. If they were in her car, she would be the one in charge, but they’re not. And he _likes_ this song. It feels very… apropos.

But apparently Tessa has decided not to play by the rules tonight, because she leans forward and switches the dial around until a Pink! song is blasting from the speakers where gentle country had once been before sitting back and looking over at him with a challenge.

Scott slaps her hand away with a glare, punching the buttons again until a different country sound is playing and shooting her a warning glance before saying, “Don’t try that again.”

“Or what?” She sasses, switches the station again to another peppy pop song before starting to dance along, raising her arms up by her head and shaking her torso from side to side. It's a clever trick, but Scott refuses to be distracted by how cute she is and quickly switches it back.

“No!”

Tessa dives for the controls, but he moves faster and grabs her hand and swiftly laces their fingers together – tugging the combined knot into his lap and holding on so tight that she can’t pull free, no matter how hard she tugs. It wasn’t his initial intention, but he isn’t about to complain about this turn of events.

“Scott, come on! Let go,” She pleads, but to no avail. His hand might be sweaty, and it might be under false pretenses, but holding her hand is still infinitely better than not holding it, and this way is much less intimidating than asking, “Tess, may I please hold your hand in a not-just-friendly way?”

“Nope! This is your fault. You can’t be trusted,” He tells her happily, smiling wider when she pouts, jutting out her bottom lip and making herself look even more kissable than normal.

“So you’re going to hold my hand hostage?”

“Yep!” He grins and she sags back into her seat, clearly sulking, but he can tell by the occasional twitch at the corner of her mouth that it’s not a _real_ sulk, so he maintains his hold on her. If she were really annoyed she’d tell him.

After a few blocks of silence, during which he can practically hear the cogs in her brain whirring as she tries to come up with a way to retaliate, Scott puts on his best polite voice and asks, “So, Tessa, tell me something about yourself.”

“Scott,” She groans, all over-exaggerated and overdramatic, making him chuckle, “You already know everything about me.”

“This is supposed to be a first date,” He chastises, “Play along.”

“Fine." She rolls her eyes and sits up a little straighter, twisting their combined hands a bit so that it's more comfortable for both of them, but no longer trying to free herself, "I’m the youngest of four, my parents are divorced, I’ve lived in London my whole life, but I used to travel quite a bit when I was a competitive dancer –“

“No, something I don’t know,” Scott interrupts her with a laugh, gripping her hand a little tighter.

_Shoot your shot, Scottie_ , the voice in his head says, sounding suspiciously like Danny, and he starts stroking his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand as if following his brother’s imaginary command. He’s terrified for a moment that she’ll pull away, but when she doesn’t and chooses to actually answer his question his heart soars.

“When I was fourteen I seriously considered quitting ballroom to become a model.”

“What?" He glances away from the road briefly to look at her in shock, "You did!? Why didn’t you tell me?” That seems like the kind of thing you tell your committed dance partner and best friend, even if it ultimately didn’t happen.

“I got turned down at my first audition, so it didn’t seem relevant. They told me I wasn't tall enough, which was annoying because for years everyone had been so worried I'd outgrow you."

“That’s why you threw out all of those boxes of magazines,” He says, realization dawning at the memory of visiting her house and finding the front porch littered with cardboard boxes headed for the dump, “You said it was spring cleaning.”

“Well, it kind of was.”

“T, it was August.”

“Spring into fall cleaning?” She jokingly tries to correct herself with a pun, and Scott laughs in spite of himself, "Now you tell me something.”

“Um..." He struggles to think of something at first, but then a particular memory floats to the surface. He can feel his ears starting to turn red as he struggles to get the words out, but it’s now or never. Time to come clean about a secret he knows has been bugging her for years. "I’m the one who froze all your bras that summer when you were seventeen.”

"What!?” She manages to rip her hand out of his before he can stop her and twists around to face him, pointing an accusing finger in his face, "That was you?"

“Charlie bet me a hundred bucks that I wouldn’t and I had to prove him wrong,” He defends himself, raising one of his hands by his head as if he can use it to shield himself from her wrath, “I used that money to take you to Canada's Wonderland, if it helps.” It’s not like he’d been selfish with his winnings. She’d ultimately benefitted from the dare, too.

“So you snuck into my room, stole all of my bras, and froze them?! And then took me to an amusement park to make up for it?”

He’s not sure why she’s so upset. It had probably been a worse prank for him than for her in the end. She’d only had to deal with the inconvenience of thawing underwear, but he’s the one who had to live with the knowledge of what all her bras looked like and pretend like it didn’t haunt him every single day. Especially that lacy ice blue one with the tiny pink bow in the middle. Even now he gets a little hard just thinking about it. Which is probably why the next words that leave his mouth are so idiotic.

“It was a harmless prank. It’s not like you really needed them.”

The second the words leave his mouth he wants to snatch them back up and swallow them whole, but it’s too late. Tessa stares daggers at him, her voice shrieking loudly in his ears, “Excuse me?”

_Shit! Shit, shit, shit, fucking shit._ “That came out wrong –“

“Are you insulting the size of my –“’

“No! You have great – I mean, they’re perfect – I – you – I just meant you mostly wore sports bras back then. I didn’t mean anything bad about your… chest area. It’s a great chest area!”

_Fucking hell, Moir!_ He mentally screams at himself, _Stop saying chest area!_

That’s it. He has to jump out of the car now. The date is ruined. They didn’t even make it to the first stop and he’s already fucked it all up. Open mouth, insert foot, ruin date. No happy ending for you. Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.

But then, just as he’s spiraling into genuine despair, a snort breaks through his agony and he looks over to find Tessa laughing uncontrollably.

“Chest area,” She snickers, wiping away the tears from the corners of her eyes before starting to laugh harder, “I forgive you. It seems too cruel to stay angry after _that_ spectacular display.”

Well, she's laughing at him, but at least she didn’t ask to go home.

"I am never speaking out loud again,” Scott groans, dropping his forehead onto the steering wheel once they’re stopped at a red light and grunting as he thumps his head against it a few times.

"Aww, but then how would I know how you feel about my chest area?" She starts laughing again and Scott seriously considers doing a barrel roll out of the car right then and there. If she asked, he would have gladly told her all the ways he appreciates her breasts, would have _shown_ her, if she wanted him to, but now he just wants to crawl into a hole somewhere and die.

She’s still laughing at him and Scott desperately clamps his hand down over her mouth after he parks the car. "Tess-a," He whines, "Can we just go dancing now, please? And maybe never mention this ever again to anyone?"

"I promise I'll keep your secret," She’s still chuckling a little bit and he just knows this is going to be a story she shares with Danny and Charlie at some point. He should probably start preparing for the humiliation now because he definitely isn’t going to live this down once they find out.

He steps out of the car in front of a familiar brown brick building on Colborne Street, the same one they'd spent years training at with Suzanne before she retired and it was bought by a young French-Canadian named Samuel Chouinard. They'd become friends with Sam over the past few years, Tessa more so than him, and even though London has other options, he figured it would be the most comfortable place for her to go dancing tonight. He knows she still comes here sometimes after a hard day to de-stress. 

"Sam's teaching an advanced tango class tonight and I thought we could join, if that's okay?" Scott holds the door open for her and guides her inside with a hand gently resting on the small of her back, and Tessa looks up to smile at him, her green eyes still lit up with the remnants of her laughter.

"Absolutely. I'm glad you picked this place instead of some random studio or a fancy place in Toronto."

"What's this? You do not think I am fancy?" Sam greets her with two kisses on each cheek and a wide smile and Tessa laughs.

"Non, je pense que tu es parfait."

Sam hugs her and compliments her French before turning to greet a group of other students that had just walked in, and Scott mutters in her ear, "Show off."

"I'd be happy to teach you."

He drops his head to her shoulder with a thunk and starts loudly fake-snoring, and Tessa shoves him off with a laugh. She’s offered to teach him French many times, but unless he suddenly decides to move to Quebec someday, he just doesn’t see the point. Although it might be worth it to accept lessons just to hear her speak it to him. He won’t deny that the words sound pretty good falling from her lips.

Once he’d caught her singing “voulez-vous coucher avec moi” along to the _Moulin Rouge_ soundtrack while she made chocolate chip cookies in her rarely used kitchen, and he won’t deny _that_ kind of French has a certain appeal.

Sam makes his way to the front of the room and claps his hands together to get everyone's attention, and Scott clears his head and faces him. "Bonjour à tous! Welcome to our tango class this evening. I'm glad you could make it. Most of you are here as part of the dance program at Western, but if you're not please know that I am happy to have you and to answer any questions that you have as we go along."

Tessa isn’t paying attention. Out of the corner of his eye, Scott can see her shifting back and forth on each foot like she’s uncomfortable, and he starts to worry. Is something bothering her? Was it something he said? Something Sam said? He doesn’t think so, but maybe he’d missed something when he was daydreaming about her French lessons.

“What’s wrong?” He asks under his breath, trying not to interrupt Sam’s lesson, but refusing to ignore her obvious discomfort.

“These shoes pinch,” Tessa whispers back, propping herself up on his shoulder so that she can wiggle her ankle around in circles, “I knew I shouldn’t have worn them, but they were new and cute.”

“Just take them off then,” He holds onto her elbow to give her more support while she tries to ease the pain, and she shoots him a grateful look.

“And get trampled? No, thank you.”

“I’ll take mine off too. Dancing barefoot is more fun, anyway.”

Sam gestures for the class to get into their starting position for the tango, and Scott slips his shoes off and kicks them aside as he turns towards her and takes her hands in his. “Here, stand on my feet and I’ll keep you safe from any wayward dancers.”

He half expects her to roll her eyes and say no, which is why he grins and sweeps her up into a waltz when she surprises him by agreeing and taking her shoes off and placing them neatly next to his.

Scott moves both his arms around her waist to keep her steady, so Tessa wraps her arms around his neck in return to help maintain her balance – pressing them together from shin to shoulder - and Scott tries not to think about what other activities would push their bodies together like this as he starts moving is feet in a very clunky version of the Viennese Waltz.

She throws her head back and laughs while he spins and spins and spins, nearly making himself sick but refusing to stop so long as she’s having fun. He loves seeing her like this, wild and carefree, and he loves being the one to help her feel that way.

They used to dance like this all the time when they were kids. It drove their teachers crazy, but it was fun so they often kept going until they were physically forced to stop. Sometimes they’d do it in his or her parents’ kitchens, too, after school or on the weekends, but that had ended after Kevin and Casey caught them and made obnoxious kissing noises in their direction.

“Ahem,” The sound of Sam pointedly clearing his throat brings them back to their surroundings with a jolt, and Tessa slips out of Scott’s arms - ducking her head and looking acutely embarrassed. Exactly like she had when she was fifteen.

“Sorry, Sam,” Scott says for both of them, but he isn’t sorry at all, and Sam definitely knows it judging by his scoff and the words he mutters in French as he walks away – a few of which Scott _does_ recognize and knows to be profane.

“I can’t believe you got us in trouble with Sam of all people,” Tessa slaps him lightly in the stomach and Scott catches her hand, using it to tug her into a more appropriate tango position. Although he instantly misses the feeling of her feet on his and their bodies pressed together. The more formal pose pales in comparison. If only that had been a required ballroom element back during competition.

_Competitive Barefoot Dancing_. He has no doubt they would have won that, too.

"He’s not mad,” He reassures her, “Sam loves us.”

“He loves me. You I’m not so sure about.”

“Ouch!” Scott pretends to look offended and Tessa laughs, “Guess I’ll have to be a model student for the rest of the class. Come on, my dance champion, let’s show ‘em how it’s done.”

If he adds a little extra emphasis to the _my_ , well, nobody needs to know.

Sam turns on the stereo and the sharp, staccato notes of _Así se baila el tango_ ring out loud and clear. The other students start to move, some more graceful than others. The women reach around the men from behind, placing their hands on their chests before sliding slowly around their bodies to where the men can wrap their arms around them and take a step, and Scott arches his eyebrow at Tessa.

_Time to show them what we’ve got, kiddo_ , he says with his eyes – issuing a challenge – and Tessa arches a single eyebrow at him in return – accepting it.

Scott loves the tango. It might not require the fast, intricate footwork that he likes or the modern movements like the hip hop dances Tessa enjoys, but it’s undeniably sexy and it’s always been one of their best. Not to mention the added benefit of requiring a lot of smoldering looks and lingering touches. It’s basically foreplay on the dance floor.

And to think, she’d originally thought he’d be helping balance her checkbook if they went out. Instead he’ll be balancing her.

He moves his hand up her ribcage to her arm, daring to briefly graze the side of her breast with his thumb, and out to her hand with a slow, lingering movement that fits the song perfectly before jerking her hand towards his shoulder on one of the staccato beats – pressing his forehead against hers when she wraps her leg repeatedly around his while they spin and twist and move – their muscles moving in ways they haven’t done in years.

It feels good though. More than good. It feels _right_. And Scott dips her with a dramatic flourish that has her grinning up at him.

“Is this the kind of dancing you were planning for whoever won you?” Tessa asks breathlessly while Scott moves around her, running his nose across her shoulder and up her neck, breathing her in, before they step forward again. He can see the goosebumps bursting out across her skin when his next exhale blows warm air behind her ear and he resists the urge to follow the bumps with his tongue.

“Of course not, but I knew you could handle it,” He smirks, their arms touching over their heads in an arch while they turn and their faces mere inches apart. He’s having flashbacks to doing this in their costumes – her eyes framed by dark charcoal, her dress blood red. _Fuck_ , he wants to kiss her so badly.

He meant his words to sound teasing, but he’s also being serious. There’s nobody else he could ever imagine dancing like this with. If he’d ended up here with Eve Warwick, he would have kept her firmly at arm’s length – even at the expense of doing the tango properly.

Some dances – _most_ dances – are only meant for Tessa.

And it’s not just because of the years they spent expending blood, sweat, and tears on dance floors just like this together, but because… because she’s _Tessa_. His Tessa. His perfect partner in every way. And above all else, dancing together is what they were born to do.

Scott guides her into a simple spin lift, not nearly as complicated as the ones they used to do during competition, but it still makes her laugh lightly. His hand slips as he sets her down, fingers grazing her ass on accident (really, he swears it isn’t on purpose), and Tessa's laughter is cut short as she sucks in a gasp. It was quick and quiet, but he still heard it, and it simultaneously shoots straight to his heart and his groin.

Maybe she’s just as affected by this as he is.

Did he say he loves the tango? What he meant was that it’s torture. Every second filled with the dichotomy of pure bliss and excruciating agony. Having her so close yet wanting her even closer.

There were days, too many to count, when he’d have to rush home after practice and jack off to deal with all the built up arousal and desire he felt for her. Days he’s not proud of when he didn’t even make it out of the locker room first – his head full of fantasies of her walking in on him and offering to go over the dance again sans costumes while he wrapped his hand around himself in the communal shower.

He’d be mortified if she ever found out, but those feelings come rushing back as the front of her hips brush against his and the scent of her shampoo swirls around his head.

God. How had he never realized that the tango is so _obscene_? Are all of the other students as affected by their partner as he is? Judging by the way the other students are looking at them now, he’d guess not.

They’re all staring, to the point of missing some of the steps, and he can sense Tessa getting distracted by them so he pulls out one of their old verbal cues, murmuring _“_ On me,” under his breath – his voice thick and jaw ticking with restraint – and she follows it immediately.

Fuck if that isn’t the sexiest thing ever. Would she come on command, too, if he told her to? He’s never been much for domination, preferring to be equal partners with the women in his life and in his bed, but somehow the idea of doing it with Tess is different.

Would she _like_ it?

They continue dancing across the room, careful not to run into anyone, and when the music ends Scott pulls her out of the final dip and presses their foreheads together, his lips centimeters from hers, their breaths mixing together in heady gasps.

Giggles bubble up to the surface uncontained, bursting out of her. She's obviously delighted with their performance after so many years without practicing, but Scott doesn’t join in like he used to. It’s all he can do not to kiss the laughter right out of her mouth and if he lets his concentration slip for even a second he’s going to make-out with her in the middle of a classroom full of strangers.

Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing. He'd take her right in this very room if she asked him to.

“Do it,” He breathes instead, the words escaping without his permission as his chest heaves and his hands dig into her ribs. Begging her to close the minuscule distance between them and finally, finally kiss him. He knows what he wants, but despite her behavior tonight, he’s still not sure what she wants, which means it has to be her choice. She holds the power and he’s merciless to do anything but wait for her to decide.

Maybe he wouldn’t be the dominant one, after all. Maybe he’d be the one begging and pleading with her for release. He’s halfway there already.

“That was so much fun,” She says instead of any of the scripted lines from his fantasies, her voice as light and as cheery as if she’s floating high above the clouds rather than thoroughly wrecked like he is.

Tessa steps out of his reach after another moment, heading over to the drinking fountain on the wall, and Scott’s helpless but to follow after her, struggling to get his breathing and emotions under control as they walk.

It takes a minute, but as soon as he feels like himself again he says, "And to think you didn’t want to come,” and tickles her from behind just as she leans over the fountain. Tessa jerks in response and ends up shooting the water all over her cheek instead of in her mouth, making him laugh.

The heavy mood from their dance disappears, and he has no idea if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“Scott!” She whines, turning around to glare at him, and he continues laughing at her – reaching up and wiping his index finger through the water running down her cheek.

“I told you I could plan a better date than giving financial advice.”

“I never should have doubted you," She agrees, stepping aside so he can get a drink of his own.

“You should just admit I’m right about everything from here on out.” That would make his life more convenient, although infinitely less fun, and he’s not surprised or disappointed when she refuses.

“Ha! Not a chance!”

“It’s nice to see you two dancing together again,” Sam interrupts them, pulling Tessa into another hug that she returns with a happy smile, “It’s been far too long. But you couldn’t tell by your dancing. It was superb.”

“Thank you,” Tessa blushes, glancing up at Scott who is equally pleased by the praise. Feelings and arousal aside, he is quite proud of what they’d just done from an artistic and athletic perspective.

“Will you stay for another hour?” Sam asks hopefully, but Scott’s already shaking his head, “My next class is advanced hip hop and I know how Tessa loves that.”

“We would, Sam, but we have dinner reservations.” Scott explains, sensing Tessa’s regret and matching it with his own. Part of him would rather stay and dance with her some more, but dinner came with the date package and he’d hate for Tessa to feel like she didn’t get her money’s worth, and he’s really excited for her to try the restaurant he picked. He just knows that it will become one of her favorites. Or, better yet, one of _their_ favorites.

“Ah, I see,” Sam looks back and forth between them with a mischievous twinkle in his eye that tells Scott all he needs to know about what their friend is thinking, “Don’t let me stop you then.”

They head back out to the parking lot and Scott opens up the passenger door for Tessa, teasing her by pretending to keep a sharp eye on her feet to make sure that she doesn’t trip again.

“You’re going to love Abruzzi, Tess,” He says eagerly as he slides into the driver’s seat after making sure she’s safely inside, “They have the best grilled beef tenderloin and you’re going to die when you taste their s’mores.”

“They have s’mores there?” She perks up instantly at the prospect, and he grins. Tessa loves s’mores, but the last time he’d seen her eat them it had been on a knife in front of her fireplace and she hadn’t had any graham crackers, which doesn’t count as far as he’s concerned. It just can’t compare to the real thing. And the real thing can’t compare to the gourmet version he’s about to treat her to.

“Yes, but they’re so much more than that. Dark chocolate brownie, torched marshmallow crème, fudge sauce, vanilla gelato, graham crumble – it’ll be like heaven on a plate for you.”

Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip and she moans a little, “That does sound amazing. How do you know all this? When did you eat there?”

Scott gulps and tears his eyes away from her mouth to pay attention to the road, “Suzanne mentioned wanting to try it so I went there with her and Kait two weeks ago.” He fiddles around with the radio stations again, looking for something they might both enjoy and resisting the temptation to stop on one of the sports channels to catch the latest scores.

Part of him wonders if he picks that one if she’ll try to change it and he’ll get to hold her hand again, but then she says, “You’re taking me to the same place you took Kaitlyn Weaver?” and he knows there’s no chance of that right now.

He hadn’t meant to mention that to her.

“You were invited to that dinner too, if you’ll recall," He replies, trying to stay calm in the face of her ire and remind himself that he has nothing to feel guilty for, "But I believe you told Kait you needed to, and I quote, ‘dust your blinds.’”

At least there he is innocent. She could have come along if she wanted to, but she’d chosen to use a flimsy excuse and stay home and therefore he can’t be blamed. Not that he should even have to excuse himself – Kait is his friend, for Pete’s sake – but the issue of the two of them spending time together has always been a touchy subject with Tessa ever since he and Kait dated. Never mind the fact that there’s absolutely nothing romantic between them anymore.  

(It could be argued that there was nothing romantic between them when they dated, either, but that's a different story.)

“That was true!” She argues, “It had been way too long and I don’t know if you noticed earlier, but they’re spotless now.”

"I’m just saying, you could have come to dinner, but you didn’t. Don’t be mad.”

“Who’s mad?” She folds her arms tightly over her chest, slouches down, and stares out the window at the passing street lights and cars, making an actual _harrumph_ sound under her breath.

“Fine,” Scott sighs dramatically, “You can pick the radio station if it’ll make you happy.”

She perks up immediately at that offer, just like he knew she would, and scrolls through until she finds an oldies rock station. Scott pretends to wail on the guitar while they’re stopped at a red light, grinning when he achieves the goal of making her laugh.

_There_ , hopefully all thoughts of her nemesis are forgotten and they can continue with their date. It’s going pretty well so far, he thinks. She’s been flirtatious (he hopes he’s reading her right), their dance was the right mix of sexy and nostalgic ( _remember how well we work together outside of the office, T? How our bodies can move?),_ and now he’ll blow her mind with dinner. Maybe the night hasn’t reached Epic status yet, but it’s definitely working towards that, and Scott’s pretty confident the s’mores will put him over the edge.

Her phone starts to ring just as the light turns green, and Tessa ignores his frown and turns the music down so she can answer it, mouthing _it’s Jordan_ at him by way of an apology.

“Hey, Jo, what’s up?”

Scott waits patiently while Jordan rambles away on the other end, vaguely wondering what she’s saying when Tessa’s brow furrows in obvious concern.

_I hope everything with Emmaline is okay_ , he thinks, his brow creasing to match hers while he waits for news.

“Of course!” Tessa agrees loudly with whatever her sister had said and gestures for Scott to turn right instead of left, “Scott and I will be there right away. Should we meet you at the hospital?”

Scott’s head spins towards her in alarm and Tessa covers the mouthpiece of her phone to quickly explain the situation, “Charlie cracked his head while trying to fix the sink and Jordan wants to take him to the hospital to get it checked out, even though he thinks it’s nothing. She asked if I could take Emmaline and I said yes.”

Scott’s a little worried about him, but that sounds exactly like something Charlie would do and something Jordan would freak out over, so he brushes it aside. If his brother had been the one to make the call or hadn’t protested being dragged away from his project to see a doctor, then he’d be more concerned. As it is, it’s probably just a regular bump on the head.

“No, we were on our way to dinner,” Tessa says, interrupting his thoughts and pausing for a moment before adding, “It’s just the charity thing. It’s not a big deal. We’ll be there in five.”

And just like that, Scott's night comes crashing down around him.

What does she mean this is just a charity thing? Has tonight meant nothing more to her than that? Is this all just because she paid for him? He is the one who insisted that they honor her bid… maybe this is all just an obligation for her. Maybe he’s been reading her wrong all night.

The thought is both sobering and horribly depressing.

Tessa slides her phone back into her purse, completely oblivious to his crushed spirits, and places her hand on his knee. Her gentle touch, usually so comforting, doing nothing to sooth the ache in his heart or the frown that’s on his face, nor how tense he feels – like a trapped animal. Tricked into a cage he didn’t see coming. A hockey player making a breakaway towards the net only to get body slammed from behind.

“Charlie will be okay, Scott. All the Moirs are hard-headed. He’ll be fine,” She gently teases him and strokes his knee with her thumb, and he swallows around the lump forming in his throat.

Of course she thinks this is about his brother. What else would he be upset about on a friendly date between friends? And he probably should be upset about Charlie, but all Scott can think about is wondering whether or not she actually wants to be here with him at all. Maybe he should leave as soon as they’ve picked up Emmaline and let her be alone.

“I know he will. I’m just sorry you won’t get your fancy s’mores now. You must be starving.” There, at least that sounded normal.  

"I am," Tessa agrees, her stomach rumbling loudly to prove her point and Scott chuckles along with her in spite of himself and his blackening mood, "Why don’t you stay after we get Emmaline and take her back to my house? We’ll order a pizza and make s’mores over the stove. They won’t be nearly as impressive, but it’ll be fun.”

The offer takes him by surprise, but it doesn’t seem _pitying_ at least, and Scott shoots a quick glance at her to look for any signs that her invitation is genuine. “Do you want me to?”

“Of course!” She doesn’t hesitate to reply, and that makes him feel a little better, “I always want your company.”

“Okay, then I will.” His hand leaves the steering wheel to find hers on his leg and he curls his fingers around hers, holding on tight.

Maybe she didn't consider any of this a date. Maybe all this was was just a mandatory charity thing. But he still has had a lot of fun and she doesn’t seem to want the night to end just yet, so he’s going to have to hold onto that and smother his disappointment.

It’s not her fault she doesn’t love him the same way. It just is how it is. He’s used to it.

 

 

They pick-up Emmaline, Charlie moaning and groaning the whole time about how the hospital visit is a waste of a perfectly good evening (yeah, he’ll be fine), and head directly to Tessa’s house.

“I’m going to change real quick,” She announces as they walk through the door, Scott carrying Emmaline in behind her, “It’s hard to babysit in a dress. Be right back!”

“I’ll order the pizza,” Scott calls after her and Emmaline yells too in an effort to mimic him, making him laugh, and he plants a big kiss on her cheek. Maybe this isn’t how he saw the night going, but he isn’t going to complain about getting to spend more time with one of his nieces. She's far too cute to feel any resentment towards. 

A trait she undoubtedly gets from her aunt. 

 

 

He’s in the middle of trying to get her to crawl when Tessa returns, looking much more comfortable in her holey jeans and long-sleeved baggy thermal tied at the waist. The strip of skin visible there distracting him in the best and worst ways possible. Her bellybutton piercing flashes as it catches the light, and he has to duck his head to hide his reaction.

“Come on, Ems, you can do it!” He turns back to their niece and lifts her hips up a little, trying to help her along. Emmaline sways forwards and backwards before lurching and landing on her stomach and reaching for her teething toy instead, and Tessa laughs.

“She’s being stubborn about it,” Scott explains, moving the baby back into position to try again with no better luck than the first time.

“It’s probably because she’s too roly-poly to balance properly. Maybe she’ll be one of those babies that skips ahead to walking right away.”

“That would be so typical of a Virtue baby. Can’t do things in the proper order, always has to be the best.”

“We believe in striving for excellence, is that so wrong?” She grins and drops down onto the carpet next to him and presses a quick kiss against the top of Emmaline’s head, smiling even wider when Scott just rolls his eyes. She takes Emmaline from him so that she can bounce her on her legs, and Scott sits back with a sigh.

“I give up. Walk if you must, Ems, and deprive your parents of adorable crawling videos.”

Almost to add insult to injury, Emmaline starts attempting a stepping motion while Tessa holds her up under her armpits, and Scott slaps his forehead with his palm, making Tessa laugh.

“Did you order the pizza?”

“Yes. It should be here in fifteen minutes. Do you think she’ll want to eat, too?” He tickles the little girl’s feet and she squirms and giggles, making him and Tess coo at her in response.

“The pizza? Scott, she’s too young.”

"Ha, ha, Virtch." He jabs Tessa’s thigh and she grins unapologetically. "I meant will she need a bottle.”

“No idea. If she’s anything like her father and uncles she’ll definitely tell us when she’s hungry.”

“So Virtues are overachievers and Moirs are gluttons, that’s what you’re telling me? Little Emmaline Josephine Moir is destined to become a champion pie eater.”

“Oh my god,” Tessa laughs, “Can you imagine Jordan at one of those cheering her on?”

“Not at all,” Scott shakes his head, laughing right along with her, “Jordan would be mortified and worried about her getting cherry filling on her clothes. Charlie, however, would be right there yelling, ‘That’s my girl!’”

“That’s quite a future your Uncle Scott has laid out for you, Emmaline,” Tessa turns the baby around so that she can talk to her and Emmaline gives her a gummy smile, “And all because you refused to crawl for him.”

Scott rolls his eyes affectionately at the two of them, his heart secretly swelling inside his chest at how cute Tessa looks with her. She’d been so nervous about being a good aunt, all her life convincing herself that she isn’t good with babies, yet here she is – proving herself wrong.

The doorbell rings and Scott jumps up to answer it before Tessa can. “There’s cash under the cookie jar in the kitchen,” She calls after him, but Scott just shouts back, “You’re not paying!” like it’s an argument they’ve had many times, which it is. He can hear Tessa muttering something to the baby and he has a pretty good guess at what she’s saying.

“Are you telling lies about me?” He asks as soon as he walks back into the room with the pizza boxes, a smaller box with cinnamon pull-aparts on top just for Tess, and her eyes go wide as she looks up innocently at him.

“Nope! I was telling her what a gentleman you are.”

“Uh huh,” He looks skeptical and she grins as sweetly as she can, which only makes him shake his head. “Let's eat."

 

 

After dinner Emmaline makes it very obvious that she's hungry, just as Tessa predicted, and Tessa assembles a bottle with a speed that impresses him, given how much he knows about her lack of experience, and hands it to him to feed her.

Scott gets situated comfortably on the couch, propping Emmaline up in his left arm and holding the bottle with his right, and Tessa rests her chin on his shoulder so that she can still coo at the baby while he feeds her.

The moment feels so domestic, so _married_ , that he loves it and hates it in equal measure.

Emmaline makes adorable sounds around her bottle that they both mimic back to her, until ninety-percent of the way through drinking her formula her face goes bright red and she emits the most terrible noise.

“What was that?!” Tessa asks in horror, "Is she okay?"

“Uh, T," Scott says slowly, pulling a face. He knows exactly what that was, unfortunately. The heat of it already seeping through his clothes. "I think we have a situation on our hands… or possibly on my shirt.”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Tessa picks up Emmaline as carefully as she can, lifting her under her arms and holding her outstretched at a safe distance. Her entire backside is a nasty shade of brownish-green and Scott groans and scrunches his face together.

The little girl smiles, apparently entirely unbothered by what’s just transpired and actually seemingly happier than she was before. Totally lacking in remorse even though where she’d been pressed against Scott is a huge brownish-green stain.

“Why are you sorry? She’s the one that did it – the demon.” Scott stands up and grabs the hem of his shirt to pull the fabric away from his chest, trying to put some space between his body and the muck.

Emmaline smiles at him again and Scott tickles her feet with his free hand in retaliation, making her chunky little legs dance and her eyes sparkle as she laughs. It’s adorable, even if there is a rather rancid smell emanating from her tiny body.

“Don’t call her a demon,” Tessa chastises him, "It’s not like she can help where she has an accident."

“When she shits on you, you can decide what to call her.”

“Come on. Let’s go upstairs to my bathroom and give her a bath. We can put your shirt in the sink to rinse before throwing it in the wash.”

Scott wholeheartedly agrees with the plan and they head upstairs, Tessa continuing to keep the baby at arm’s length like some kind of zombie mother while walking straight to the tub to turn on the water.

Scott fiddles with the buttons of his shirt, trying not to touch the stain as he takes it off, struggling to make sure the mess doesn’t accidentally get anywhere else while Tessa struggles getting Emmaline out of her onesie without any of it getting in the little girl’s hair.

“I think I get why parents never have clean bathrooms.”

Scott laughs while running water over his shirt, feeling sorry for Tessa’s sink as he rinses it off, “You don’t think babies do this all the time, do you?”

“I hope not,” She mutters, pinching the edge of Emmaline’s onesie and handing it over to him to rinse off as well before wiping the rest off of her skin with a baby wipe and lifting her into the tub.

“Me too. Otherwise when I’m a dad I’m buying plastic covers for everything – including my clothes.”

“Wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?”

“And this isn’t?” He holds up the wet clothes from the sink and makes a face and Tessa laughs.

“Good point.”

He turns back to the task at hand while Tessa attempts to bathe Emmaline, but it sounds more like a fish flopping around in there than it does bath time and he has to stifle a laugh. Maybe she’s not at ease with all of this yet like she’d seemed to be downstairs.

“Gah!” She shouts suddenly, followed by another splash, and Scott turns the water off in the sink, leaving his shirt to soak, before rushing over to help her.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s so slippery! This is impossible.”

“How much water did you put in? She should be able to sit up by herself and play, as long as you keep a hand nearby to steady her when she needs it.”

“It’s up to her waist. Is that wrong?”

“T, babies only need an inch or two.” Scott unplugs the stopper and drains over half of the water while Emmaline watches with fascination. Her hair is plastered to her head and there are water droplets dripping from her eyelashes, a sure sign that a struggle had taken place.

“I didn’t know! I’m new at this.” Tessa frowns and looks down sadly at the tub, prompting Scott to take pity on her rather than laugh.

“You’re doing fine." He reassures her as he kneels down beside her on the floor, "You just have to remember not everyone likes to soak in luxurious bubble baths as much as you.” He bumps her shoulder with his and smiles softly, and Tessa pushes a damp strand of hair out of her eyes with a huff.

“You’re a pro at this, it’s not fair.”

He’d hardly consider himself a pro, but he has had a bit more experience than she has, and that does help. “Hardly, I’ve just had more practice, that’s all.”

“But you’re a guy and I’m a girl. Shouldn’t this just come naturally to me?”

“That’s very traditional gender roles of you, Virtch, I’m shocked,” He teases, bumping her shoulder with his own again, this time a little bit harder, and Tessa groans.

“That’s not what I meant. I just thought it would be easier.”

“Well, you can’t cook either, so you’re O for two in the traditional gender roles department, if it makes you feel any better. Way to break barriers!” He holds up his hand for a high five, but Tessa shoots him a scathing look and slaps the water instead, sending a splash careening into his face.

At first he just stares at her in offense, droplets of water falling one at a time from the tip of his nose, and he can see the fear in her eyes as she rushes to apologize. But it’s too late.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry! Don’t do anything rash. There’s a baby here.”

“Oh, anything like this, you mean?”

He scoops up water in both hands and Tessa tries her best to dodge it, but she’s not quick enough and she ends up with it all dumping down the front of her shirt while Scott grins triumphantly at her.

“That is war, Moir!”

“There’s a baby here!” He shouts back, flipping her defense back around on her, but it’s too late for that now – Tessa sends more water flying at him and Scott retaliates in kind, the two of them violently splashing each other back and forth. Even Emmaline joins in, following their example by cheerfully slapping the water and laughing when it gets in her face.

“Okay, truce! Truce,” Scott holds up his hands in defeat after a few minutes, his hair and shirt now both plastered to his body. Even his jeans haven’t made it through unscathed, and Tessa’s clothes haven’t fared any better. There’s more water on the two of them than in the tub now. So much for bathing the baby. They’re no more than children themselves.

“Just for that, you can get Emma out of the tub. If she has another accident before her diaper’s on, then I want it to be on you.” Tessa states, climbing up off the floor and wringing out her shirt in the sink.

“Rude!”

“I’m going to go get changed. Don’t forget to put lotion on her skin.” She grabs the bottle from her shelf and hands it to him, along with a clean towel, “It’s not baby stuff, but it’s super gentle.”

“And what am I supposed to do about this?” He gestures to his clothes with an arched eyebrow, and Tessa smirks.

Uh oh. Scott knows that look and if he doesn’t show some serious remorse he’s going to be left soaking wet or shirtless for the rest of the night. And not in the context he’d hoped.

He gives her his best, saddest, most pathetic pout – complete with big, round eyes – and Tessa sighs and gives in. “I have some of your old sweats somewhere, I think, I’ll try to dig them out. I’m not sure if I have a shirt that will fit you though.”

“Whatever you have is fine, thanks, T.” Scott’s pout spreads into a smile and he tickles Emmaline’s tummy while expertly putting on her diaper.

“Here, trade me,” She returns sooner than he’d expected wearing her favorite pajamas and twisting her hair up into a bun - walking back into the bathroom and handing him the sweats before taking Emmaline out of his arms and wrapping the little girl up in her fuzziest blanket since they don’t have a change of clothes for her.

“I’ll go put everything in the dryer once I’m done,” He offers and she nods.

She hadn’t brought him a new t-shirt, and although it feels a little strange to hang out shirtless he doesn’t really have a choice. Neither of his shirts are in any state to put back on right now, so he shrugs, resigning himself to partial nudity (again, not in the context he’d hoped), and bundles up all of the wet clothes into one big ball and takes them to the laundry room – setting them to quick dry before heading back towards Tessa’s bedroom.

He returns to the sight of Tessa rocking side to side where she’s standing in front of the window, illuminated mostly by starlight in the dimly lit room, singing quietly while Emmaline rests her head on her shoulder, and he stops still to listen.

 

_Baby mine, don't you cry_

_Baby mine, dry your eyes_

_Rest your head close to my heart_

_Never to part_

_Baby of mine_

_Little one, when you play_

_Don't you mind what they say_

_Let those eyes sparkle and shine_

_Never a tear_

_Baby of mine_

_From your head to your toes (Baby mine)_

_You're so sweet, goodness knows (Baby mine)_

_You are so precious to me_

_Cute as can be_

_Baby of mine_

_Baby mine_

_Baby mine_

 

The last note fades as Tessa’s quiet voice tapers off, and Scott can hear the baby take a deep breath, signifying that she’s fallen asleep. It’s probably the sweetest moment he’s ever witnessed, and he has to take a second to collect himself before speaking.

“That was nice, Tess,” Scott whispers, coming up behind her, and he can tell she didn’t know he was there by the way her body twitches with an almost-jump – stopped just in the nick of time before she could accidentally wake up the baby.

"Oh! Thanks,” She answers quietly, sounding embarrassed to have been caught, “It’s from Dumbo. My mom used to sing it to me when I was little because I love elephants.” Tessa turns around to face him as she talks and her jaw goes slack.

At first he doesn’t understand what’s happening – does he have something on his face? Has all his hair fallen out? – but then he realizes she’s staring at his bare chest. Not just staring… _appreciating_. Her eyes roaming from top to bottom, zeroing in on his happy trail ( _don’t go there, Scott!)_ before she seems to snap out of it.

“Bed!” She blurts out, making Emmaline twitch in her sleep, and Scott tilts his head in confusion.

_Surely she doesn’t mean… that… right now?_

“What?” He gasps and jerks himself from the stupor he’d been under. Pleading with his body not to be affected by her heated gaze. It’s the first time she’s ever looked at him like that outside of a performance. The first time he’s felt… wanted in real life, not just as a character in a dance. Lusted after by her. And it’s turned his brain into scrambled eggs.

Maybe he _hasn’t_ read tonight wrong…? He hardly dares to hope, but he has no idea what to think anymore.

“I thought it would be easier if we just stayed in here. It’s more comfortable and we can watch TV turned down low and Emmaline can sleep in the bed between us until Jordan gets here,” Tessa continues, voice barely above a whisper, rushing over the explanation so fast that Scott has to actually concentrate to catch her words.

“Okay, um, sure. If you’re okay with that.”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Her voice is far too bright and cheery and she winces.

Is she nervous? Excited? Full of dread? Now would be a really nice time to discover an encyclopedia of Tessa’s emotions and facial expressions, because while normally he can read her really well, he’s at a complete loss right now.

He just has no idea what she _wants_.

They climb into bed and Tessa gently lays Emmaline down between them before grabbing the controller from her nightstand. She clicks around until she finds a channel doing back to back reruns of random episodes of  _FRIENDS_ and then turns the sound down so that it’s barely audible and switches on the subtitles before flipping off the lamp – leaving the room bathed only in the flickering glow of the TV.

He’s stiff as a board, unsure whether he should sit up or lay down, wondering if he should try to talk to her or shut up and watch Rachel bemoan her 30th birthday on the TV. He keeps glancing over at Tess, trying to catch a hint as to what she’s thinking or feeling, but whatever had been going through her head a moment ago when she was ogling him seems to be gone now. She looks completely at ease, and he sighs and gives up any idea of talking to her about it.

It’s quiet for a while, other than the occasional rustling of one of them shifting in the bed, and Scott can feel himself drifting off as he sinks further and further into her comfortable mattress. She ordered special pillows online a few months ago, had raved about them for weeks beforehand during movie nights and then weeks afterwards as well, and he finds that they’re just as amazing as she’d said they were. He knows he’ll be asleep within a few seconds – minutes at most.

He rolls to the side to face her and whispers, “Hey, T?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna be a great mom.” The words are impulsive, but true, and he’s glad he managed to say them when he sees her cheeks flame red as ducks her head, biting her bottom lip before saying a rather timid, “Thank you.”

“'Welcome,” He slurs, his voice is barely a murmur, and with another blink he’s gone.

 

 

He wakes up to a pitch black room and immediately reaches out for Tessa and Emmaline, finding their side of the bed empty, but still a little warm. They must not have been gone for long. He can hear the water running in the en-suite, so he swings his legs over the side of the bed and shuffles his way there, running his hand through his hair and down his face – trying to wake himself up.

He finds Tessa standing in front of the sink alone washing her face, her toothbrush recently used and resting on the counter, and humming a little song that he doesn’t think she knows she’s doing out loud. There’s no sign of the baby and she’s clearly getting ready for bed, which means her sister stopped by while he was dozing.

“Jordan must have picked up Emma.”

Tessa jumps at his sudden appearance, jabbing herself in the eye with her soap-covered finger in the process and muttering curses as she rinses it out. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” He chuckles, leaning against the doorway of her bathroom and running his hand through his hair some more. It’s definitely a complete mess, but he’s still only half awake so he doesn’t really care. Every part of him longs to turn around and climb back into her bed, but he’s not sure that would be appropriate anymore.

“Yes, Jordan came. She said Charlie will be okay, it’s just a minor concussion.” Tessa smiles and goes back to washing her face, and Scott’s overwhelmed by the domesticity of it all again. They’ve always been close, but somehow it feels like _more_ tonight. Heavier, somehow. He doesn't know what to do about it.

“That's good to hear. Sorry I fell asleep.”

"No worries, I didn’t mind. You could have continued sleeping, if you wanted.”

He has no idea what to make of that offer, either. Sharing a bed with her is a whole different level from falling asleep together on the couch – one that he wouldn’t define as platonic under any circumstances – but she said it so nonchalantly that he has a hard time believing she meant it any way other than as friends.

“Kind of a lame ending to the date, though. I’m sorry our date didn’t turn out to be as epic as I promised.” Babysitting and shit-explosions aren’t exactly what you’d expect from an eight thousand dollar date, and even though he knows those things weren’t his fault, he still feels a little guilty about it. But… maybe he could make up for it. Maybe she’d be open to a second date.

Tessa turns towards him and leans against the counter, mirroring his pose and giving him a look, “Stop apologizing. I had fun! Tonight was very memorable.”

“That’s one word for it,” Scott laughs a little awkwardly, swallowing nervously. _Here goes nothin’_ , “We should do it again sometime though - get it right. Maybe next time we’ll actually make it to the restaurant.”

“I think we should do it every week!” Tessa replies with a grin, and Scott steps away from the door-frame in surprise.

“You do?” His heart starts galloping inside his chest and white noise threatens to drown out her next words.

Once he hears them he wishes it had.

“Yes!” She smiles even wider and bobs her head up and down, “I miss dancing regularly with you. We need to do it more often.”

Dancing. Of course. She meant fucking _dancing_.

“Oh,” He deflates, his heart thudding to a stop before picking back up at its regular slow plodding pace, “You want to go dancing every week.”

Her forehead wrinkles and her eyes sweep over him, probably wondering why he’s sad about her answer, “Of course. What did you think I meant? Babysitting?”

“No, that is what I thought. I want more dancing, too.” He hurriedly smiles, trying to reassure her and hide his reaction, “I’m, um, I’m gonna head home.”

"Are you sure you’re not too tired to drive? I don’t mind if you want to stay here.”  

And platonically share a bed with her? No thanks. He’s had enough torture for one night. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna grab my stuff out of the dryer and go.”

“Okay. I’ll walk you out.”

She looks disappointed, but he can’t focus on that right now. Tonight has been a rollercoaster of emotions. And not the fun kind – the kind that makes you regret the two corn dogs and giant cup of coca cola you had before getting on.

Scott tugs his t-shirt back on once they're downstairs, now warm and dry, and slips on his dress shoes from earlier. He probably looks ridiculous in his combination of t-shirt, sweats, and fancy shoes, but he doesn’t care. All that matters is getting out of here as quickly as possible so that he can crawl underneath his own blankets and try to begin to make sense of the night he’s had and the woman before him.

But before he can reach the front door Tessa throws her arms his neck in a tight bear hug, and however confused he may feel right now, Scott can’t help but immediately return it – burying his face in the crook of her neck and breathing deeply.

Whatever he may be feeling, she’s still Tessa, and her hugs will always be the best way to make him feel better.

“Thank you for tonight, Scott,” She says quietly, but earnestly, into his ear, “It was the second-best birthday ever.”

“Second?” He asks, lips moving against the skin where her neck meets her shoulder, and his arms grip her a little tighter around the waist when he inhales the remnants of her sweet smelling moisturizer. This feels as natural to him as breathing, but for her… well, he has no idea what this feels like for her. 

“Well, the first best was when you took me to get ice cream at The Frozen Spoon and let me get as many scoops as I wanted.”

“Tess,” Scott huffs out a laugh against her collarbone, feeling her shiver slightly in his embrace, “That was when you were twelve.”

"I know, but they closed that place down six months later and I’ve been dreaming of their chocolate fudge swirl ever since.” She twirls her finger in the hair at the base of his neck as if she can conjure it up right there, and Scott bursts out laughing, his body shaking against hers and making her laugh as well, and he can feel her grin into his shoulder before placing a soft kiss there.

“Well, then I guess second place is okay,” Scott lets her go with a smile, still confused and a little unhappy, but feeling better than he did before the hug.

“See you at work tomorrow?” She asks, bright and cheery, her hand caressing his chin for a moment before she drops it and steps away, and it takes everything he has not to step after her to keep her close.

“No place I’d rather be. Goodnight, kiddo.” He pecks her on the cheek in farewell, his lips hitting more of the corner of her mouth and lingering a little longer than they normally do.

_So close_.

“Goodnight, Scott. Text me when you get home so I know you're safe.”

"It's like a five minute drive," He chuckles, but then nods solemnly when she glares at him, "I will."

 

 

He drives home in silence, turning the radio off and letting the red brake lights of the cars in front of him blur in his vision. Outside there’s the distant rumbling of thunder and then rain starts to pitter-patter against his windshield – just a light drizzle, but enough to suit his mood.

Gloomy thoughts deserve gloomy weather.

He has absolutely no idea what to make of tonight. One minute it had seemed like a genuine date, like Tessa actually knew about and reciprocated his feelings, and the next they were right back to being two best friends just casually hanging out. Back and forth and back and forth – like the world’s worst seesaw shooting him up to the highest highs and then crashing him down to the lowest lows.  

Lightning illuminates the sky up ahead and Scott wishes it could do the same for his situation. Tessa’s feelings are no clearer to him now than they were before the date started. If anything, all of her mixed signals have only confused him even more.  

Whatever is going on inside her head though, one thing is clear. He can’t stay in this limbo much longer. He’s going to have to tell her the truth. And soon. Before he goes crazy. It would be better to know for sure, even if she doesn’t return his feelings, than stay in this land of uncertainty any longer.

He just has to find a way to work up the nerve.

Maybe he'll get lucky and the perfect opportunity for confessing his feelings will present itself soon.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a while to get this chapter out, but I hope you all enjoyed Throwback Week instead! :)


	11. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott struggles with whether or not he should tell Tessa the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter coincides with EKOM Chapter 13

** rebound **

**__ **

_Twenty twenty twenty four hours to go_

_I wanna be sedated_

_Nothing to do, nowhere to go-o,_

_I wanna be sedated_

Scott’s head bobs vigorously up and down as he moves along to the beat of the Ramones, their accented lyrics and punk rock melody a welcome distraction from the thoughts that have been constantly threatening to invade his head during the past few days.

He grips another large weed by its reddish hued stem, twisting his hand around the ugly plant and tugging it out by the roots with a satisfying rip as the song fades out and is replaced by _Blitzkrieg Bop_. The whole yard is nearly weed free now, and the far corner is lined with black garbage bags containing all the broken branches leftover from winter. All he has left to do is mow the grass and then he’ll be searching for the next big project.

Maybe he’ll finally paint the downstairs living room like his dad’s been meaning to do for the last three years. The once eggnog colored walls are now decorated with more than their fair share of smudges and scrapes, as well as a rather impressive drawing of a dinosaur and a castle done by a burgeoning artist - his nephew. They could use some freshening up. While he’s at it, he might re-paint the rest of the rooms in the basement as well. Anything to keep himself busy.

After the date/not-date with Tessa on Wednesday, Scott knew he couldn’t go over to her house for movie night on Friday and pretend nothing had changed. There’s no way he could have sat next to her, sharing a couch and blanket and bowl of popcorn, and pretended everything was normal – he’d had a hard enough time doing that at work safe behind a closed door the past two days. So he’d made up an excuse about his mom needing help with a few things that couldn’t wait and escaped to Ilderton, and while he’d had every intention of sitting on the couch, watching basketball, and moping – it turned out she actually _did_ need help. And as Alma loves to say, “busy hands make happy hearts.”

Which is how he came to be wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of a grimy hand, probably leaving streaks of dirt across his face, and developing an early summer tan in his parent’s backyard. So far not any closer to having a happy heart than he was when he started.

He tosses a few more weeds into the full garbage bag a few feet away and ties it off, checking the knot to make sure it’s secure before turning around to stack it with the rest – letting out an unmanly shriek when he finds his mother standing right behind him.

“Jeez, Ma! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” He pulls the headphones out of his ears and switches off his music, shoving the electronics into the baggy pocket of his shorts while halfheartedly glaring at her.

Alma shakes her head and points to his pocket with a matching frown, “You shouldn’t have your music turned up so loud. You’ll damage your eardrums.”

“What?” He shouts, cupping his hand around his ear and leaning in closer to her, and she laughs and shoves him away by his shoulder.

"Exactly. Come take a break. You’ve been working hard all morning – you need to eat and drink something.” She turns around without waiting for his answer and starts walking back towards the house. Scott can see his dad waiting for them on the back porch – the little teal wicker table laden with all sorts of enticing lunch items, making his empty stomach rumble rather loudly – and decides sparing a minute or two for lunch couldn’t hurt.

“I guess I could take a quick break before I mow.”

“Oh, let your father handle that,” Alma gently reprimands him, waving her hand in the direction of the yard, “This house isn’t your responsibility anymore.”

“I’m younger. It’s just easier if I –“

“I’m not climbing into my grave just yet,” His dad cuts him off with a gruff laugh, shoving a peanut butter sandwich into Scott’s hand before pushing him down into one of the matching wicker chairs, “I think I can still handle cutting some grass.”

“My point is you shouldn’t have to if I’m around to help. Which I am,” Scott argues back, carrot stick crunching loudly as he snaps it in half between his teeth after dipping it in a generous portion of ranch dressing.

“And my point is don’t bury me before I’m cold. Hard work is good for a person. Keeps him young.” His dad leans back in his chair and his knee pops as he extends it – somewhat hurting is argument – but Scott lets the issue drop. Most people think he gets his stubbornness from his mother, but his dad can dig his heels in pretty deep when he wants to.

Scott munches away on his sandwich and carrots in companionable silence, feeling like a little boy again, while his dad shells peas – tossing them into his mouth one at a time and occasionally throwing one or two at Alma with a mischievous gleam in his eye – and his mom ignores him while pouring three healthy-sized glasses of lemonade.

“Are you going to tell us?” His mother breaks the silence with an uncomfortably pointed look as she hands over one of the glasses. There’s condensation already forming on the sides of the cup and it makes his mouth water. She’d been right that he could use a drink.

“Tell you what?” The question comes out garbled around the food and drink in his mouth, and Scott catches a stray chunk of peanut butter on the edge of his thumb with his tongue. It’s not a gourmet meal by any means, but it’s more satisfying than anything he’s had in a while. He needs to visit home more often.

“Whatever it is you and Tessa are fighting about.”

Or maybe not.

He nearly spits out the second mouthful of juice he just took, almost choking on it instead. “What do you mean? What makes you think Tess and I are fighting?”

“The cold shoulder method always was your specialty,” His mother lets out a knowing little sigh before sipping on her own glass, making Scott feel even younger than the sandwich had, “Whenever the two of you had a disagreement you always came home with a scowl and threw yourself into one project or another so that you could avoid her.”

Damn. He’s got to find a way to be less predictable. Maybe next time he’ll go to one of his brother’s houses, just to shake things up a bit and avoid getting the third degree.

“We aren’t giving each other the cold shoulder. There wasn’t a fight.”

His dad shares a look with his mom, the two of them wordlessly agreeing with a single glance that they don’t believe him before Joe asks, “Then why are you upset?”

“I just…” Scott sighs, trying to think of the best way to explain the situation without giving anything away, “It wasn’t a fight so much as a misunderstanding. I think… we want different things, but I’m not sure how to talk to her about it.”

“Honesty is always the best policy,” His dad states bluntly, the sentiment echoed by Alma’s fervent nod.

If only it were that simple.  

“Even if it might make things worse?”

His dad seems to think about it for a minute, taking his glasses off to clean them with the hem of his shirt before carefully readjusting them on his nose, “I don’t believe honesty can make things worse. I think, in the end, things will end up exactly how they were meant to. Lying only leads to unnecessary complications and pain.”

"I’m not lying.” Scott sinks down further in his chair, nursing his lemonade with a glower. Withholding the truth is not the same as lying – especially if it’s in the best interest of all parties involved.  

“Keeping secrets doesn’t help friendships, either,” Alma points out, making Scott feel even more defensive. They just don’t understand the situation. If they did, they’d be on his side. But the problem is Scott suspects his parents of secretly harboring dreams of him and Tessa getting together – his mom had even called her his soulmate once – so explaining why that hasn’t happened yet, why it may never happen, isn’t a straightforward conversation.

“What if this secret is for her own good?” Scott shoots back, “What if I just need to… get over… this secret?”

“Can you get over her?” Joe asks before Alma quickly nudges him in the side and he corrects himself, “I meant the secret. Can you get over the secret.”

 _Smooth_ , Scott thinks, mentally rolling his eyes, _real subtle there_.

“I don’t know,” He pauses, sighing heavily before murmuring, “It’s just… complicated. I don’t want to lose her.”

“Scott,” His dad scoots in closer and places a comforting hand on his knee, squeezing it like he always does when he’s about to dole out wisdom, “I don’t pretend to know everything there is about women – your mother can attest to that - but I do know that there’s nothing that could make you lose that girl. You’ve been in each other’s lives practically since before you can remember. Telling her your secret isn’t going to drive her away. Hell, if that stunt you pulled back in ’04 didn’t do it, nothing will.”

Ah, yes, painting her favorite dance shoes neon orange. She’d been so nervous before their competition and he’d been trying to lighten her up, but Tessa had _not_ seen it that way. Still, wrecked shoes can be replaced. Confessions of love once uttered cannot be undone.

“But I think there might be somebody else, and if there is, what good does it do either of us for me to tell her now?”

“Do you know for certain that she’s seeing someone?” His mom looks surprised, and he can’t blame her. It’s been a long time since Tessa dated anyone, at least seriously (Scott prefers not to know or think about one night stands or hook-ups), but just because his mom seems doubtful that she has a new boyfriend doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

“No, not one hundred percent, but all signs point to yes.”

“You still have to talk to her,” His mom hands him a molasses cookie, flecks of sugar falling off her fingers into his lap, and nods firmly, “Even if you don’t get the answer that you want. You’ll feel better if you do.”

“I’ll think about it.”

 

****

 

Scott stares helplessly at the paper on his desk. It had started out so neatly – straight lines, even columns, bullet points – but now its devolved into a mess of scribbles as he adds and deletes and edits each side of the page over and over. Agonizing over each letter.  

He had spent the entirety of Sunday cleaning his apartment and rearranging furniture while warring with himself over whether or not telling Tessa that he’s in love with her is a good idea or not when she’s probably just started dating someone else. (Is it selfish of him to tell her? At what point does honesty do more harm than good?) And in the end he’d fallen into a restless sleep no closer to an answer than he’d been when he started.

So today he’d decided that if he really wants to determine what Tessa’s reaction will be, he’d have to think like her. Hence the pro/con list currently glaring up at him from his desk, the sharp lines harsh and jagged and making it look as if the paper has taken the abuse he’s put it through personally.

A good effort, but ultimately useless. He still has no idea if he should tell her or swallow his emotions and be happy for her current relationship. Being her best friend has always come first, and surely she’d want and expect for her best friend to share in her joy, not try to ruin it with his own selfish needs and wants.

“Hey, Scott,” Kaetlyn knocks on the doorframe and walks into his office with a shy smile, interrupting his excruciating game of mental ping pong, “I was wondering if you could teach me more about that accounting software during lunch today.”

 _Damn._ He’d been hoping to grab lunch with Tess today, maybe try to push her a little and get a feel for her relationship status and how receptive she’d be to his confession, but in the midst of his heavy workload (see: pro/con list), he’d forgotten. It would be rude to make an excuse and exclude Kaetlyn now that she’s asked. “Oh, uh, sure. Sounds great.”

She smiles, her whole face brightening with his slightly indifferent answer.  “Awesome. I was thinking I’d grab lunch for us from The Early Bird. Does that sound good to you?”

"Yeah. They have good pierogis,” Scott tosses his pen aside and leans back in his chair, running his hand through his hair and sighing under his breath. The list will have to go in the trash. “Did you ask Tess what she wants? I know she loves their salads.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear and shifts her weight from foot to foot, looking down at the ground before back up at him, her forehead wrinkling for a moment before she smooths her expression. “No, she’s, um, she’s having lunch with Andrew today. I thought it could just be the two of us.”

The legs of his chair hit the ground with a loud thud, probably denting the hardwood, as Scott sits up straight again. “She is?”

“Yeah. He called a little while ago and she rescheduled one of her appointments so that she could go meet him at a cafe. I think it was kind of a last minute date, or something.” Kaetlyn shrugs like it’s no big deal and then smiles again, “So pierogis? What kind do you want? I think they have one with poutine.”

“Um… that sounds… fine,” Scott manages to say, a dark cloud having descended over his brain, making it hard to focus on sandwich preferences when he’s much more concerned with Kaetlyn’s casually painful piece of information.

Is this how it’s going to be now? Andrew encroaching on all his personal time with Tessa until finally she has no more room for Scott in her life?

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that even the flavorful food Kaetlyn brings him can’t erase.  

 

 

Lunch passes in a blur. Scott’s not sure Kaetlyn actually learned anything useful from him at all, but she didn’t seem to mind when he’d had to explain one concept three times to her because he kept losing his train of thought – laughing at his bad jokes and seeming to genuinely care about learning how to manage her finances better and balance a checkbook.

Still, he’s grateful when their food is gone and she returns to her own desk. He needs a chance to adjust to the idea of _lunch dates_.

The familiar click-clacking of heels echoes down the hallway and in his ears, and Scott looks up to see Tessa walking past his office, twisting the rings around her fingers and looking like she’s seen a ghost. She doesn’t even flinch when he calls out her name, so he immediately gets up and follows her.

“What’s wrong?”

She’s practically collapsed in a heap onto her black sofa, staring into the void as she nibbles on her thumbnail, and suddenly Scott couldn’t care less about lunch dates with other men. What matters is that she’s upset and he needs to fix it.  

“I don’t know,” She murmurs absentmindedly, her brow wrinkling together and her foot tapping fast enough to give Thumper a run for his money.  

“Did Andrew say something at lunch to upset you?” Scott takes the seat next to her and tentatively places his hand on her back. He isn't sure whether or not his touch will be welcome, but she leans into it with a tiny sigh and Scott inhales with sharp relief when she relaxes further into him. Physical affection is important to him and it’s always been an essential part of _them_ , and he’s grateful that amidst all this confusion, at least that hasn’t changed.

“Not exactly. I think… I think he likes me.”

She sounds breathless and amazed, and Scott’s eyes shoot to the garbage can in the far corner. He’s about ready to throw up the poutine and fried dough churning around inside him. The gravy and cheese finding it hard to settle in his stomach while it struggles to ingest her words.  

Potentially finding out that she isn’t dating Andrew was supposed to be _good_ information. Something to privately celebrate before confessing his feelings. It was _not_ supposed to be accompanied by the simultaneous revelation that it’s something Tessa actually _wants_ to happen.

His hand leaves her back to make a fist in his lap as he works to unclench his jaw. His dentist won’t be very happy with him if he keeps grinding his teeth so often. He’d even suggested that Scott start sleeping with a mouth guard, although Scott had turned him down. How do you explain that your problem isn't in your jaw, it's actually due to the mere existence of another person?

He knows he needs to reply to her, but he can barely form a single syllable response before his mouth clamps shut again.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure. He didn’t say it outright, but he hinted pretty heavily, and now I’m just so confused because I have no idea what to do. I need advice.” She’s looking at him with those big green eyes like he holds all the answers and Scott could almost laugh if the situation wasn’t so horrific. There’s no way he’s going to give her advice about this. No way he could even begin to try. He’s as far from impartial as they come.

“Tess,” He sighs and looks up at the ceiling, praying for patience, “Has it ever occurred to you that I might not be the best person to talk to about Andrew Poje?”

“Why not?” She protests, and it’s as if her words are the proverbial nails in the coffin of his hopes that she might reciprocate his feelings. She really has no idea, _no idea_ , how he feels about her. If she did she wouldn’t be asking him to do this now. “I know you don’t like him for some reason, but you’re my best friend in the whole world. Who else am I supposed to talk to?”

He swallows thickly, the words “best friend” searing instead of elating for the first time in nearly two decades, and abruptly stands up from the couch, “Midori, Kaetlyn, Jordan, your mom. Hell, even Kait. Literally anyone else.”

“But I trust your advice more than anybody.”

 _God, dig that knife in a little deeper, Tessa_.

"I can’t tell you what to do here, T, I just can’t. You’re gonna have to figure it out on your own. I’m sorry.” With that he turns and heads back to his office, slamming his door shut behind him.

How is he supposed to live like this? When each day seems to bring new pain. He needs a chance to get out, recoup, and find a way to adjust to this new reality without the slow descent into madness that would accompany watching Tessa fall in love with Andrew. He has about a million vacation days saved up. Maybe it’s finally time to use one or two of them.

In the meantime, at least he has the bachelor party on Saturday to look forward to as a welcome distraction. Beer, sports, and some time spent with male friends might be just the thing he needs. 

 

****

 

**Toronto Department of Public Health Environmental Health Services**

**NOTICE of CLOSURE**

**Permit Suspension: for identified imminent health hazards**

**Ontario Health and Safety Code, Section 113810**

 

The official city seal at the top of the closure notice gleams in the light of the setting sun behind them, and half a dozen men groan in unison as they first read the sign on the door, then turn to glare at Alex’s brother, Laurence, whose hands are raised high above his head in self-defense.

“Jesus Christ, Laur. Couldn’t you have bothered to check that the bar was open before dragging us halfway across town?” Zo slugs him on the shoulder. Hitting him hard, judging by the way Laurence flinches and rubs at the spot with a genuine wince.

“How was I supposed to know this would happen? The place was open when I was here a few nights ago,” Laurence scratches the side of his thick auburn beard and reads the sign again, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You might want to make sure you didn’t catch anything then,” Scott murmurs loud enough for Alex to hear him, and his friend lets out a quiet snort by his side.

“With how much time Laurence spends camping and hiking, catching something from a dodgy sports bar is probably the least of his worries.”

“I know another place,” Andrew pipes up with his characteristic dimpled smile, and Scott resists the urge to roll his eyes or mimic throwing up. Spending time with Andrew is annoying on a good day, but right now, Scott’s days are anything but good. His patience level is pretty much at a zero for the taller, irritating man.

“Of course you do,” Scott mutters, kicking the rock near his toe and sending it flying towards the road where it pings off of the tire of a passing Honda and nearly hits a stray cat. A black one, of course, because his luck isn't struggling enough these days on its own.

“A really awesome hole-in-the-wall type place called ‘The Verb’ and it’s located right downtown,” Andrew continues, oblivious to Scott’s blatant disdain, “They’ve done it up like an old speakeasy and there’s bookshelves all over full of old leather-bound books. And they serve these cauliflower feta fritters with pomegranate that are simply to die for.”

“Not a single part of what you just said describes a _bachelor_ party.” Zo folds his arms over his chest, unimpressed, and Scott’s never agreed with the bodybuilder friend of Alex’s more. The place sounds stuffy as hell. 

Actually, a bar where you can curl up in a big armchair and read while you quietly sip on your drink sounds exactly like something Tessa would like, and that just annoys Scott more. Andrew’s probably taking Tessa to all sorts of hipster little places like that – impressing her with their atmosphere and ambience and aesthetic and whatever other A words are applicable – while Scott’s been playing the part of the pitifully unaware best friend and treating her to mundane things like pizza and hodge-podge s'mores and a quiet night in.

“We need a club, Andrew, not a lit fest,” Vance’s hard tone successfully bars Andrew from making any other suggestions, and he turns to Alex's brother with a stern expression, “Laurence, as best man this is your job. Find us a new venue. I want to get drunk, I want to dance, and I want to get laid.”

“In that order?” Laurence laughs and the rest of them join in.

“Actually, I might have a suggestion,” Alex says, scanning over the message he’d just received on his phone one more time before looking up at them – the straight set of his mouth belying the excitement sparkling in his eyes, “We could go to that new club, Strawberry Fields.”

Something about the way he’s trying a little too hard to make it sound like a casual suggestion gives Scott the feeling that he knows exactly why Alex wants to go there, and he can’t exactly say that he blames his friend for wanting to spend the night with his fiancée, but… the prospect doesn’t exactly fill him with the same kind of joy. There are other people at Strawberry Fields. People Scott's trying not to break his heart over. 

“Oh yeah,” Laurence nods, “I’ve heard good things about that place.”

“How? It just opened and you’ve been backpacking through the Andes for the last two months.” Alex cocks his head at his brother and Laurence just shrugs and gives him a shit-eating grin. 

“I have my ways.”

“So we’re all agreed then?” Zo asks, “We’re going to this strawberry place?”

“Sounds good to me,” Vance nods.

Andrew opens his mouth, looking like he’s going to protest, or, more likely, suggest another pretentious place instead, but Vance shuts him up with another glare and they all pile back into the car without further debate. 

 

 

Scott is seeing red.

Only this time, it’s not a metaphor, it’s the literal truth. Whoever designed the club had taken the name quite literally. Everything is wall to wall shades of red – from the maroon floor to the cherry walls to the ruby LED lights pulsing all above them. It’s like a million strawberries exploded inside the building, and from what Scott can see of the drinks people are holding, they ended up inside a million daiquiris.

“Should we try to find a table?” Alex asks, already scanning the crowd for the face he’d come here for, and Scott chuckles and shakes his head. He has no doubt they’ll find Midori within the next three minutes. One if she isn’t sitting down.

A pair of long legs peeking out from under a very short sparkly black dress catches Scott’s attention – his eyes zeroing in on the shapely calves before working their way up to her perky ass – and he groans and shuts his eyes.

He’s not sure if he should be proud or embarrassed by the fact that he’d recognize that ass anywhere.

_Tessa._

Of course he knew she would be here. She’s Midori’s maid of honor and best friend and she’s been working on this party and wedding for months. But a tiny part of him had hoped to avoid having to watch her interact with Andrew. 

Guessing that they’re dating is one thing. Having to watch it firsthand is something else entirely. Something he’s not sure he has the stomach for. What if she kisses him? 

He'd probably have to bleach his eyeballs. 

“Hey look!” Andrew waves at the group of girls who have all just turned around to face them and the rest of the men follow suit. Midori is grinning at the sight of her husband-to-be, of course, but the other girls’ reactions vary from mild surprise to outright distress. Tessa falling into the second category. She looks like she just choked on her drink at the sight of them, her face going as pale as it possibly can under the flashing scarlet lights.

“Dude,” Laurence groans and jokingly socks his brother in the stomach, “You knew about this.”

“Guilty!” Alex shoots back, looking anything but, and they all head over to the large booth the ladies have commandeered, Scott lingering in the back to postpone as long as possible. 

As they grow near, Scott watches Tessa’s face shift from dismay, to confusion, to… relief? Her eyes don’t leave Andrew’s face the entire time she’s running that gamut of emotions, and Scott’s not sure how to interpret it at all. Is she happy they’re here or not? 

Andrew doesn’t seem to have the same questions. He drops his arm around her shoulders like it belongs there (it _doesn’t_ ) and greets her with a cheery, “Hey, Tess!” that she replies to with an equally cheery, “Hi!”

That’s about all Scott cares to hear of their conversation. It’s hard enough to look at them being all cozy, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation as well. So he strikes up a conversation with Kait and Kaetlyn instead to help him resist the temptation to eavesdrop on what's happening on the other side of the table. “Are you guys having a fun night so far?”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty fun actually,” Kait shrugs and takes a rather large sip of her Manhattan before pulling out the cherry and using her teeth to free it from the toothpick, giving Scott the distinct impression that she’s already a few drinks in, “Until you guys showed up.” Her gaze drifts towards Andrew before she seems to catch herself, and she takes another quick swallow.

Whatever Tessa may think, Scott’s still pretty certain that there’s _something_ there. Even if it was only in the past. Kait isn’t her usual polished self around Andrew, and that speaks volumes. It's a mystery he'd like to solve someday, if he can get Kait to open up a little bit more. 

“Ouch!” Scott laughs and places his hand over his heart, pretending to be offended, “I’m trying not to take that personally.”

“Please do,” Kait smirks.

“No, don’t!” Kaetlyn cuts in with a frown, her forehead creasing as she watches their banter like she's worried his feelings will be hurt, “She doesn’t mean it.”

“No,” Kait finishes off the rest of her drink and waves down one of the servers wearing crimson mini dresses to order another, “I do. It’s a lot harder for us to find attractive men to dance with if we already have a group of men with us. They’re cocking up our plans. Literally.”

“You’re not,” Kaetlyn insists, shaking her head so vigorously that a few of the curls from her perky ponytail fall loose, and Scott idly tucks them away for her with a friendly smile.  

“It’s okay, Kaetlyn,” He chuckles, “I’ll try not to be too much of a clam jam.”

Kait snorts and starts choking on her new drink while Kaetlyn’s cheeks flush pink as she giggles, and Scott grins – pleased at having made both of them laugh.

He can feel Tessa staring at him from across the table, her eyes boring into the side of his head, so he steals a quick glance at her – can’t help himself – his eyes swiftly moving across where Andrew’s arm is still circled around her before meeting her gaze. But the second his eyes meet hers she looks away - stealing Andrew’s drink and taking a big gulp in an obvious attempt to avoid making eye contact. 

Which means she’s hiding something, specifically something from _Scott_ , and she doesn’t want to risk giving him the opportunity to read her face and figure out what it is. Not that it would take a genius to figure it out. Even the worst body language reader in the world could tell that the secret she’s keeping is her relationship with Andrew. Part of him almost wishes she'd admit it so that they can get it over with and start moving past it. 

“You can have all of it, if you want,” Andrew offers blithely, holding his glass out to her, but Tessa shakes her head and pushes it away somewhat clumsily. How much has she already had? She and Kait, the two among them who drink the least, both seem to be on the same one way train tonight for some reason. 

“Maybe later. Let’s dance.”

“Your wish is my command,” Andrew wiggles his eyebrows playfully at her and Scott watches as they make their way to the dance floor, pain lancing through him as they start grinding close together to the pulsating beat set by the DJ (if what Andrew's doing can be called dancing. He looks like an idiot). Tess loves to dance, but she doesn’t dance like _that_ with just anyone. 

It’s just further confirmation of what Scott already knows, and he’s not particularly fond of masochism, so he turns away from watching them to talk to Kaetlyn. “Do you want to dance?” They can go to the other side of the floor and avoid the other couple entirely.

“Me? With you?” Kaetlyn accidentally dribbles some of her drink as her mouth falls open in shock, and Scott hands her a napkin with a small laugh.

“Why not?”

“I’d love to!”

 

 

Dancing with Kaetlyn is easier than he’d expected. If asked, Scott would have guessed that she’d be an enthusiastic dancer, but a clumsy one. Prone to stumbling over her partner’s feet like she stumbles over thin air at the office whenever he walks into a room and she wasn't expecting him. But she actually manages to keep up pretty well and even executes the correct steps when Scott does a surprise dip.

An idea pops into his head. It's a long shot, but worth exploring.

Trennt had mentioned an interest in taking basic dance classes when they were hanging out together a couple of weeks ago… maybe Kaetlyn would be interested in accompanying him. She certainly seems like she’s enjoying herself. Maybe this would be the perfect opportunity to nudge her and Trennt back towards each other. Scott knows Trennt’s still harboring feelings for her, he just needs to get a hint for how Kaetlyn feels to see if it's worth trying to set them up again.

“So, are you seeing anyone right now?” He has to yell to be heard, which he assumes is why Kaetlyn nearly trips over her feet and falls flat on her face. The volume of his voice must have taken her by surprise.

She rights herself and looks up at him with huge hazel eyes, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally stammers out her answer. “N-n-no. No, I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

Perfect! He’ll have to let Trennt know, subtly, of course, that he should reach out to her again. Even if it’s just as friends at first. He knows Kaetlyn had been interested before Tessa’s interference, so maybe she could be again with a gentle push.

“Cool.” He shrugs nonchalantly, already plotting to text Trennt after they leave the club tonight. 

She blushes and ducks her head, as if she already knows what he’s thinking, and Scott feels pretty confident that his little efforts won’t be in vain. As long as Tessa doesn’t try to set her up with somebody else completely wrong for her, that is.

(No offense to Tess, but Scott still can't believe she thought  _Ryan_ would be a good partner for her.)

They dance for a while, the physical exertion helping his tension from earlier dissipate, and to his surprise he realizes they’ve gravitated towards Tessa and Andrew, and she’s actually grinning at him. Scott reflexively smiles back, unable to resist her happiness even if the source of it cuts him to the bone, and she opens her mouth as if to say something.

But then three things happen in quick succession. One, Andrew steps backwards with his arms held high over his head and starts wriggling his hips like a drunk giraffe. Two, a waiter with a tray full of drinks tries to slip between him and Kaetlyn. Three, Andrew hip-checks the waiter while doing what can only be described as something a gazelle masquerading as a ballerina would do and sends him careening towards the young brunette.

“Look out!” Tessa shouts, reaching out to stop him even though there’s no way she could possibly prevent the disaster already in progress. And Scott tries to pull Kaetlyn out of the way as best he can, but there just isn’t time.

In a split-second Andrew seems to recognize what’s happening and contorts his body around the waiter, taking an entire tray of drinks down on himself instead of letting it all land on Kaetlyn.

“Oh my god!”

“Andrew!”

“I am so sorry, sir!” The waiter drops to his knees and starts grabbing pieces of shattered glass, looking at Andrew’s soaked shirt in terror. It’s obvious the poor guy thinks he’s about to be fired, but Andrew just laughs him off.

“I’m alright. No bruise, no foul. Just a little… wet.” He holds up his hands helplessly and everyone in the vicinity breaks out in laughter, including Tessa, none of them appearing to be too worried by the sharp glass scattered around their feet just begging to send someone to the emergency room.

It isn’t funny. Somebody could have been seriously hurt because of his idiocy and inconsiderate behavior, and Scott’s about to say so when someone else does it for him.

“What were you thinking?” Kait shouts, appearing out of nowhere to glare down at Andrew with bright red cheeks, nostrils flaring, “You could have been seriously hurt!”

“I’m fine,” Andrew laughs off her concern, “I couldn’t let Kaetlyn take the hit, and I’m good at turning an inconvenient situation into an adventure.”

“No, you were too busy having fun and messing around to take precautions and think,” Kait shoots back. There’s more venom in her words than the situation strictly calls for, but Scott’s not about to get in her way. “As usual.”

Their glaring match is interrupted by Kaetlyn carefully kneeling down beside Andrew, her voice soft as she says, “You saved me.”

“I’ve always wanted to rescue a beautiful damsel in distress,” He winks, letting Kaetlyn help him to his feet and following her towards the kitchens to try and save his shirt from being irreparably damaged.

The waiter starts collecting shards of glass and depositing them onto his tray, and Scott kneels down to help, not surprised when Kait joins him. Together they start helping the waiter find all the little pieces that could be hazardous to the surrounding dancers and put them back onto his tray.

Tessa’s feet are in the way of some of it, her heels providing little protection against an accidental glass splinter, so Scott reaches out and cups her knee to encourage her to move – feeling her jerk underneath him in surprise.

“Virtch, it’s just me,” He rubs his hand up and down her calf, hoping to calm her nerves a bit and in the process torturing himself with how smooth and soft her skin is, “I wanted to make sure you didn’t step on any of the glass.”

Tessa silently drops to her knees and starts helping them – and he thinks he catches a glimpse of crimson cheeks. Although what she has to be embarrassed about, he has no idea. It’s not like any of this disaster was her fault.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” She says quietly after a few seconds, her hand brushing against his as they reach for the same piece of glass, and she jerks her fingers away like she’s been burned.

“Of course,” Scott murmurs, trying not to let that small rejection get to him. She seems a little jumpy at the moment – it probably has nothing to do with him. The shattering of so much glass must have shaken her up a bit, that’s all. It would have shocked anyone. 

“Are you okay, Kait” He turns back to Kait, finding her cheeks still flushed and her eyes flashing with bursts of anger, “You seem pretty upset.”

“I just have little patience for people who are inconsiderate of their surroundings.”

“Is that all?” Beside him he can feel Tessa stand up and walk away, her area now free of hazards, and the empty space feels like a vast canyon without her there – even though it’s quickly filled by the legs of other dancers.

He follows her with his eyes as she goes back to the booth to sit with Kaetlyn, striking up a conversation with her and rolling her ankles under the table one at a time. Her feet must be sore and aching in those shoes, but maybe he can persuade her to join him for one last dance and he can still salvage some of the evening. Even platonically, it would still be better than the night ending with having only spoken a few words to her and the memory of her leg imprinted onto his hand.

“Of course that’s all,” Kait snipes, and it takes Scott a second to remember what they were talking about. She stands abruptly, giving Scott no choice but to follow, and her eyes land on Andrew almost immediately - her face hardening with sheer determination. “Excuse me, Scott.”

Whatever is about to transpire in that direction, Scott's positive that he wants no part in it.

He makes his way over to the booth instead, trying to come up with the best way to ask Tessa to dance and just barely catching the tail end of her conversation with Kaetlyn as he arrives.

“We won’t even say his name. In fact, this conversation never happened.” Tessa makes a zipping motion across her lips and Kaetlyn giggles, repeating the action over her own.

“What conversation?” Kaetlyn asks, and Tessa nods. 

“Exactly.”

The two women dissolve in a fit of laughter, and Scott looks back and forth between them, his eyebrows scrunching together. Are they talking about Andrew? Did Tessa tell _Kaetlyn_ about her new relationship before him? He’s not going to lie, as jealous as he is, her not confiding in him almost hurts worse.

“What are you two laughing about?” Scott announces his presence by leaning his arm against the edge of the booth by Tessa’s head, trying not to let the jealousy seep into his voice and feeling confident that he mostly succeeded. His voice takes her by surprise though, and she jumps for the second time that night, spilling her drink all over her lap, 

“Oh no! I must be bad luck tonight,” Kaetlyn grabs all the napkins off the table and hands them to Tessa in a big wad, and Tessa thanks her and mops up the mess from her bare thighs. It requires a conscious effort for Scott to keep his eyes _away_ from all the wet skin on display there. Did she have to wear such a short dress tonight? It looks hot as hell on her, but that's kind of the problem. 

“It was my fault, Kaetlyn, I was just surprised.”

It’s a good opening, and Scott takes it before he can second guess himself. "Still, I'd better take you away for Kaetlyn's protection," He winks and Kaetlyn giggles, “Come dance with me, T.”

He takes the soiled napkins from her hands and puts them on the table before pulling her out of the booth and guiding her backwards through the throng until he can find some space amid the sea of bodies, giving Tessa no choice but to go with him.

Her cheeks are rosy, her movements slowed and a little clumsy, and her glassy eyes struggle to find his – landing somewhere in the middle of his chest instead. She’s clearly been drinking a lot tonight, and Scott doesn’t want her to feel forced into anything, so he places his hands low on her hips with barely any pressure before stepping in closer to ask, “Is this okay?”

“Yup!” She squeaks, her voice loud and unnatural and earning a few looks from a couple of nearby dancers, “It’s not like we’re brother and sister!”

What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? Is this her way of revealing that she only thinks of them as siblings, and that dancing too close would be inappropriate? Because if so, the tango was a far more egregious sin than this simple sway.

God. All this time he’s been thinking he’s the best friend, but maybe he’s really been the _brother_ all along.

The idea makes him physically sick.

“Brother and sister?” He finally manages to say, “No, no we are not.”

Casting her eyes round about them – hopping quickly from one object to the next without looking at him - Tessa suddenly blurts out, “Are you and Kait dating?”

The gruff laugh is pulled out of his chest without warning, taking him by surprise. The question so ridiculous that he feels light and free for a moment even contemplating the notion. Of course while he’s standing here having an existential crisis she’s focused on whether or not he’s sleeping with her enemy. At least she had the guts to confront him about it. Maybe he should take a page out of her book.

"Which Kait are we talking about?” He teases, and Tessa pinches his shoulder and glares at him.

“Kaitlyn Weaver of course.”

Scott settles his arms more comfortably around her while they sway to _She Will Be Loved_ by Maroon 5 and tries not to think about how close his hands are to her ass or the fact that she hasn’t moved them away yet or the disturbing idea that her feelings for him might be fraternal. “Kait’s just a friend. That ship sailed a long, long time ago.”

“So you’re not interested in her?” She presses, her fingers flexing around the tendons where his shoulders meet his neck, making him bite his tongue.

“Not in her, no.” It’s as bold as he dares to be right now, and he watches her closely for any sign that she understands his subliminal message, but Tessa just nods and continues dancing. Somehow the disappointment at her lack of reaction still manages to surprise him, even though he should have learned to expect it by now.

She’s just starting to finally relax around him when someone bumps into him from behind and he stumbles forward, his pelvis accidentally pressing into hers as his hands slip down the rest of the way to cup her ass, and Tessa rips her arms away from him and jumps backwards – almost falling down in her haste to put space between their bodies.

“What’s with you tonight? Why are you so jumpy?” He reaches out to touch her elbow in concern, but she pulls her arm out of reach. 

“This was a mistake,” She mutters, scrunching her eyes shut tight and grimacing, and Scott’s heart plummets into his stomach. She must be really committed to Andrew if even an accidental touch like that makes her feel the need to move away. They’ve had accidental gropes before – back during their competition days – and she’d never reacted like that. 

“A mistake? I thought you said you wanted to dance with me more?”

“I do. Just not like this.”

“Not like this,” Scott repeats, scoffing to stop himself from getting teary in the middle of a overwhelming crowd, “Of course not.”

Of course she didn't mean anything close to grinding. Nothing close together. Nothing intimate. No dancing in any way where their bodies could even hint at touching inappropriately. In short: nothing that a brother and sister wouldn’t do.

“No – I just – I’m a little drunk. I’m sorry.”

Scott sighs, running his hand through his hair, and opens his mouth to say something – apologize, promise not to let it happen again, beg her to be honest, he’s not sure what - his other hand finding its usual place in the crook of her neck, but she flinches away like she’s been shocked. The action of her pulling away as painful to him as a physical blow.

They've always been comfortable touching each other. Is even that lost to him now, too? 

"Okay, seriously Tessa? What is it? And don’t say -”

“Nothing!”

“-Nothing,” He finishes, glaring at her as his hands fall back to his sides, “I know you better than that. Something’s up with you. You’ve been weird ever since I got here tonight.”

“No.” She shakes her head back and forth from side to side as vehemently as she can, looking like a dear caught in the headlights. Whatever her secret is, it’s clearly a big deal to her. Big enough to interfere with a two decade relationship and send it into a dizzying tailspin. She doesn't even want him touching her, for fuck's sake. What could have happened for this to be the result? What did he do? 

Scott takes a moment to force himself to relax, dropping his shoulders and flexing his fingers a few times, before speaking in a much more controlled voice, “Are you hiding something from me? Whatever it is, you can tell me. I... I can take it.”

She needs to tell him. Just rip it off like a Band-Aid. Get it over with so they can both figure out how to move forward. He hasn't tested the theory, but he's pretty sure her friendship keeps him alive. He can't lose it.  

Her mouth drops open and for half a second Scott thinks she’s going to come right out and say it, but then she yells instead, “For the last time, no! Now drop it!”

“Fine!” Ignoring the stunned look on her face at her own words, evidence that she hadn't meant to yell, he spins around on his heel, tugging his hand away sharply when she tries to reach out and stop him. If that's how she's going to be, then he's going home. 

Fuck this club. Fuck this party. Fuck this whole week. 

What he wouldn’t give to go back to last autumn, before any of this began, when they were still just Tessa and Scott and everything was easy. 

He has no idea how he's going to make it through the wedding tomorrow. Another day having to endure watching her and Andrew be together and having to put on a happy face. He needs to take that vacation - the sooner the better. All he can do is hope that nothing else disastrous will happen before he gets a chance to escape. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit left, guys! Unfortunately... a bit of that will be painful.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding is synonymous with disaster.

** check to the head **

****

His brain is going to burst out of his skull.

Or, at least, that’s what it feels like it’s trying to do. Pressing in on all sides like an expanding balloon with nowhere to go. He really shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night, but after the disaster that was his dance with Tessa all he’d wanted was to go home and watch _FRIENDS_ and drink away his sorrows. Now he’s really feeling that last glass of whiskey.

Okay, those last three glasses.

In his defense, trying to come to terms with your best friend being repulsed by your touch isn’t exactly easy. Shoving their relationship into that new and uncomfortable mental box of "no touching/completely platonic" had required a lot of alcoholic lubrication, and it still doesn’t even fit.

“I hate weddings,” Zo says, coming up to stand beside him with a glass of something sparkling in his hand, a glass that Scott’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to have until _after_ the ceremony is over, “Why do they always serve champagne? Just once I’d like to attend a wedding that serves good old fashioned Molson.”

"I don’t think beer cans would look as good in photographs.” Scott digs two fingers into his temple and rubs them around in little circles, trying to stave off the impending hangover-induced migraine.

He likes weddings, on the whole. There’s usually good food, good drinks, and plenty of dancing. Any opportunity to bust out his  _Footloose_ routine is a welcome one. Not to mention the overwhelming atmosphere of love and happiness that normally makes his romcom-loving heart dance out a samba. And this one is beautiful – birds singing, flowers blossoming, the overwhelming sense of tranquility – the kind of place he could picture himself getting married one day.

But today he agrees with Zo. Weddings are the worst.

Zo frowns and downs the rest of his champagne with one swallow, apparently not missing beer enough to turn away the free booze, and then looks over at Scott, observing his grimace and pinched face with a furrowed brow, “Are you okay? You don’t seem like your usual cheery self.”

His question comes as somewhat of a surprise, given that he’s really Alex’s friend, not Scott’s, and they haven’t ever interacted outside of the bar or a few hockey nights, but Scott appreciates the concern all the same.

"Just hungover. Shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night.”

“Oh yeah. How Alex managed to be the only one to leave his bachelor party sober beats me.”

“Clearly he’s smarter than the rest of us.”

“Why don’t you ask one of the kitchen staff if they have aspirin or something? I used to work as a temp waiter at events like this. There’s bound to be a first-aid kit in the kitchens.” Zo grabs another champagne flute off the tray of a passing waiter despite the young man's protests, and Scott nods.

“That’s not a bad idea. Thanks, man.”

"No problem. Just don’t tell Midori I was drinking before the ceremony,” He grins and Scott gives him halfhearted thumbs up before heading in the direction of the kitchens. He’ll have to go through the seating area and around where the band is setting up, but hopefully they’ll have what he needs so that he can make it through the ceremony in one piece.

Midori’s a pretty forgiving person, but he highly doubts she’d forgive him for barfing in her bouquet during the vows.

As he makes his way across the courtyard he spots Tessa standing by the wedding arbor, and his heart stutters to a stop along with his feet.

She’s talking to Andrew, the two of them standing closely together and looking like they’re having a very serious conversation, and Scott’s eyes follow the length of her arm down to where Andrew’s hand is clasped around hers. His fingers squeezing Tessa's as a vice clamps down around Scott’s heart – refusing to let go and making it hard to breathe.

He can just barely make out Andrew saying, “Thanks, Tessa. You truly are remarkable,” before the taller man bends down and then it’s like watching a horror movie in slow motion – unable to tear his eyes away even though he knows he doesn’t want to see what comes next - as the two of them kiss in front of the arbor. The image imprinting itself on the back of Scott’s eyelids like grim foreshadowing of what’s to come.

They pull away from the embrace and Tessa says something that makes Andrew laugh before he leaves and Scott quickly walks away before either of them can catch him standing there.

That’s it then, isn’t it? The confirmation he’d been looking for. Tessa and Andrew are dating.

Tessa and Andrew.

_Tessa and Andrew_.

No matter how often he says the words in his head, experimenting with different intonations and rhythms, it sounds all wrong. He’s never going to be able to reconcile their relationship, even though he knows he’s going to have to try. The thought of it makes every beat of his heart more painful than the last.

          

 

One of the caterers directs him to a bottle of aspirin and his head starts to feel better after he pops a couple of pills, even if his heart doesn’t. At least it will make walking down the aisle and standing through the ceremony much, much easier. And it will save him from death-by-bride by not being sick all over everything – a perk he is very much grateful for.

With only a few minutes left to go, Scott makes his way to the assembly area where the other groomsmen and bridesmaids are waiting for the ceremony to start. Tessa isn’t anywhere to be seen, but he figures as joint bridesmaid and wedding planner she’s probably off taking care of some last minute details. He could use a few more minutes to mask his emotions, anyway.

Andrew is there though, chatting up the bridesmaid that he’ll be accompanying, and Scott glares daggers at the back of his head.

“Hey, buddy,” Alex’s brother Laurence claps him on the back by way of greeting, jerking Scott's attention away from Andrew, and then goes back to straightening the boutonniere pinned to his jacket, “Where did you go last night?”

“I left early,” Scott explains, double checking his own boutonniere to make sure it isn’t as lopsided and crumpled as the other man’s is.

“Ah,” Laurence smirks and gives him a knowing look, “Found a hot chick, eh?”

Did he find one? Yes, technically. Did he go home with her like Laurence is implying? Sadly, no. She’d literally pushed him aside for someone else.

With that sobering thought Scott glares at Andrew again before replying, “No, I just wasn’t feeling well. Too much to drink.”

“We’ve all been there.” Laurence nods sympathetically and claps him on the shoulder again, making Scott’s whole body jerk forward with the force of it.

Suddenly, Tessa comes running in to the assembly area looking frazzled and a little pale, capturing all of Scott’s attention without even trying. She looks breathtakingly beautiful in her bright red dress – he hadn’t had a chance to notice it earlier when she was with Andrew, but now he can appreciate just how stunning she is. It matches his tie, and he can’t help but think with a pang what a fine looking couple they’ll make - however brief their sojourn down the aisle may be.

“Hi,” She greets him with a small voice as soon as she’s standing by his side, getting into position for their march down the aisle, and the timidity he hears very nearly makes him pull her in for a hug. She could probably use some moral support right now, and he starts lifting his arms to offer her that as she looks around. Her eyes linger on Andrew though, and then it all comes rushing back and he balls his hands into fists at his side instead.

“Hi.” His response is terse and he refuses to look at her, fiddling with the buttons on his sleeve and trying not to let his voice reveal his jealousy and hurt.

“You look really nice. That’s… that’s a good suit on you.” She sounds sort of nervous and wary, like a trainer talking to a horse it thinks might spook, and Scott sighs and shuts his eyes for a moment to regain his composure. Just because he’s upset by the situation doesn’t give him any right to take it out on her. She doesn’t owe him anything – who she dates and falls in love with, who she lets touch her platonically or romantically, is all her own choice, even if it makes his heart ache – he has no right to lash out at her like he is.

“Thanks, kiddo,” He manages to smile at her, slipping in the nickname to make sure she knows he’s not angry (well, working on it), and Tessa smiles back at him and reaches up to adjust his tie.

“You’re welcome.” She smooths it down his chest with her hand, centering the silk and making sure it’s lying flat and looks good, and Scott tries to not to shiver as his useless brain imagines her doing the same thing with a lot less fabric between them. He’s going to have to quit thinking things like that if he’s ever going to be able to be normal around her again.

He still checks her out though, raking his eyes up and down her body before saying, “You look as beautiful as ever.”

It’s true and she deserves to hear it.

“Thank you,” She flushes adorably, “Not too embarrassed to be seen with me, then?”

It’s a low blow when he knows there’s another groomsman she’d rather be arm-in-arm with right now, and Scott grits his teeth and swallows thickly before turning to face forward again. “You’re the one acting like you want a different partner.”

Fuck. He shouldn’t have said that. Not when he’s trying to refocus on being her friend again and not a bitter asshole. But the words just slipped out and he wants to bury his head in the sand when he hears the gentle reprimand in her voice.

“Scott,” She takes his hand and refuses to let go when he tries to pull away – which seems like an extra layer of cruelty when she’d been so adamant about him not touching her last night, “I know I was being weird last night, worse than weird, but you know there is no one I’d rather walk down the aisle with, right?”

He freezes and in that instant he can see it all. Him in a different suit, maybe grey, maybe black, her in a beautiful white dress beaming at him as she walks down the aisle, her dark hair falling in tendrils around her face. Can hear the promises he’d make her – his vows are already mostly written in his heart, it wouldn’t take long to put them down on paper. It’s a beautiful fantasy, one he’s dreamed of for over a decade, and it rips through his chest like shrapnel the second she adds, “You’re my best friend -“

“So you keep reminding me,” He cuts her off with more bitterness in his voice than he’d intended, and he immediately feels guilty. Of course he’s her best friend he’s just… struggling right now. Can’t she see that? Is she so totally oblivious to his feelings that she can’t see how she’s hurting him?

“I don’t like it when we fight. Can’t we just forget that last night happened and get back to normal? Tessa and Scott, the dynamic duo?” She bumps his shoulder with hers and he can see her smiling playfully up at him out of the corner of his eye, but he can’t bring himself to laugh it off.

“It’ll be fine, Tess,” He finally manages to say after a few seconds tick by, “I just need time to get over it.”

He throws her a quick smile, but he knows it doesn't reach his eyes and Tessa’s fades in response, her eyes searching his face for answers he know she won’t find. If she can’t guess what he's feeling, he certainly isn’t going to tell her. The last thing he needs right now is to hear her telling him outright that they’ll never be anything more than friends. Understanding the implications of her actions is painful enough.

The sound of the band striking up their instruments and playing the first movement of Pachelbel’s Canon signals that it’s time to begin, and Scott’s never been more grateful to hear classical music in his life.

If they can just make it through the ceremony then he can avoid her during the reception and tomorrow he can disappear on his much-needed vacation for a few days. He doesn't have a plan yet, all he knows is that he needs a break. Just enough time to get over her and re-center his priorities back to being the best friend he can be.

He offers her his arm just as all the other groomsmen do and Tessa takes it before picking up her small bouquet from the nearby table. She's standing so close to him, and yet she's never felt more far away.

Andrew and his partner are leading the procession, and he turns and winks at Tessa before walking towards the aisle.

If looks could kill, Scott would have just committed murder.

 

 

Scott heads straight to the refreshment table after the ceremony in desperate need of a drink. He nearly reaches for some of the champagne, but stops himself at the last second and grabs a glass of water instead. The last thing he needs is for his headache to come back and make him even more irritable than he already is.

The ceremony had been beautiful, but it was hard to pay attention to it when he was so focused on _not_ imagining what it would be like if it were him and Tessa up there instead. And on not childishly stomping on Andrew's foot, which had been a very strong impulse.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the new Mr. and Mrs. Harvey!" Tessa interrupts the chatter in the room to announce the new couple with as much of a booming voice as she can manage, clapping wildly, and all the guests join along while Alex leads Midori into the center of the floor for their first dance as a married couple.

Scott turns to watch as Alex laces the fingers of one hand with Midori’s and wraps his other hand around her back, pulling her in as close as possible while still remaining decent enough for their grandmothers before starting to sway. There are a few things about their position and step sequence that he’d fix, but otherwise it’s perfect. The epitome of a classic wedding scene.

 

_Grow old along with me_

_The best is yet to be_

_When our time has come_

_We will be as one_

_God bless our love_

_God bless our love_

 

Midori and Alex look incandescently happy together as they dance to the classic John Lennon song, and it's obvious to everyone in the room that the two of them only have eyes for each other, but Scott finds himself watching Tessa instead.

Not just because the moment and the song make him think of her with longing, but also because she looks so tired. More so than he’d expect after a long day of managing a big event. She keeps rubbing the back of her neck and twisting her head to alleviate whatever pain is there, and he’s beginning to suspect it’s because she has a headache. A bad one, too. The kind that he knows threatens to develop into a migraine that will knock her out for the rest of the night.

Suddenly nothing else matters but alleviating her pain.  

After Midori and Alex’s first dance ends and she’s no longer needed, Tessa slips away towards the terrace and Scott heads in the other direction to dig out the first-aid kit in the kitchens. 

He pumps his fist in the air when he finds the bottle of aspirin still tucked inside right where he’d left it before, and he grabs both it and some water before heading off to find Tess.

          

 

It takes him a couple of minutes, but he ends up finding her standing at the edge of the balcony overlooking the rose garden, and he’s already calling out her name and walking towards her when he realizes that she’s not alone.

_Andrew_.

Of course the other man had found her first. Probably wanted a stolen moment alone with his new girlfriend. He’d even brought her some champagne, even though any idiot could see that liquor isn’t what she needs right now.

Scott nearly turns to go, to leave them alone in their private moment, but then they both notice him and he sees Tessa wince when the light from inside catches her eyes as she looks his direction. Her head hurts and he can fix it. That’s more important than any awkwardness that might ensue between the three of them.

Decision made, Scott stands up a little straighter and continues walking over to her, “You have a headache, right? I could tell by the way you kept rubbing the back of your neck. I got these from one of the caterers.” He hands her the bottle of aspirin and the look she gives him is so full of overwhelming gratitude he almost pulls her into his arms for a bone crushing hug. She looks like she could use all the tenderness and care she can get right now. Apparently Andrew wasn’t providing that.

Scott tries NOT to feel superior that he can still give her what she needs. That he knows her much better than her crappy new boyfriend does. But, well… he never claimed to be perfect.

“Thank you!” She tosses the pills in her mouth and takes the water, downing a large mouthful with an appreciative smile before handing it back to him. Some of it dribbles onto her lip and his hand twitches at his side with the urge to wipe it away with his thumb.

“You’re welcome. Do you – “ He glances briefly at Andrew before proceeding, “Need anything else? Or are you good here?”

She hesitates, looking for a moment like she wants to ask him something, but then she seems to think better of it and says instead, “No, this is more than enough. Thank you, though. It’s sweet of you to ask.”

Her body sort of jerks towards him before they’re interrupted by Suzanne calling out her name, stopping Tessa from whatever action she was about to take.

(A hug? A handshake? A kiss on the cheek? He wishes he knew. Any of those would have been welcome.)

“I’ve been looking for you all night,” Suzanne rushes over, Kait trailing close behind, and clasps Tessa’s hand in hers, “This has been the most beautiful wedding I think I’ve ever attended. You’ve done such a fabulous job.”

“Thank you,” Tessa replies politely, rubbing her temple again with her free hand, and Scott grimaces on her behalf. It can’t be easy playing hostess with a migraine, but she’s always so good. So kind and patient. He’s always admired her ability to be sweet and giving under even the hardest circumstances.

“Who would have thought back when you were dancing all day that you’d end up doing things like this? It’s really amazing what you’ve become, and I’m so proud of you.” Suzanne smiles so warmly at her, and Scott feels his heart swell with pride.

"Tell her your plan, Aunt.” Kait softly prompts Suzanne, smiling at her aunt and nudging her shoulder.

“Well, see I was thinking, if Tessa can turn the world on its head and chase after new and unexpected dreams, why can’t I? Loblaws is doing a nationwide contest for the most innovative organic homemade food and the winner gets to have their products sold in Loblaws stores for a year.”

“And you’re going to enter?” Scott asks eagerly. It’s great to see Suzanne with a new passion and new goals – even if he wouldn’t have expected it to be about her jams. But still, the world seems to be all about organic food and unique flavors these days, so she should go for it! He’ll even sign up to be her first customer.

“Yes, I think so. What do you think?”

Tessa grimaces and rubs the back of her neck, and Scott frowns a little at her tone when she asks, “What flavors will you choose? Cactus, date, and cantaloupe?” The medicine must not have kicked in yet. He wishes he could massage it away for her, but that probably wouldn’t go over too well with Andrew standing by her side.

“Oh, no dear," Suzanne laughs with a wave, "That might be too bold for new tasters. I was thinking strawberry, guava, and rhubarb.”

“You could call it ‘Strawguavabarb,’” Andrew suggests, his words sounding more malicious than genuine, as he elbows Tessa in the side – grinning when she makes a poor attempt to cover up her laughter. Scott shoots her a warning glance and she purses her lips together. There's something about Andrew's flippant attitude that he doesn't like, and he doesn't like that it made Tess laugh.

“I like that,” Suzanne replies enthusiastically, oblivious to the fact that he was clearly joking, “Creative names for creative flavors. Maybe I’ll do my peach, cherry, jalapeño as well.”

“Peacherreño,” Scott suggests with an encouraging smile, rolling his R's dramatically to try and counteract Andrew’s facetiousness, and both Kait and Suzanne grin at him.

“Well, Tessa? What do you think?” Suzanne looks at her with stars in her eyes, and it makes Tessa’s next words all the more crushing.

“I think you’re going to monopolize the disgusting jam flavor market. Let’s hitch our wagon to a star, guys.”

Scott blinks, staring at Tessa with a mixture of shock, dismay, and overwhelming disappointment. In twenty years, he’s never heard her ever say something so casually harsh. Especially not to a dear friend.

Andrew laughs beside her while the rest of them go incredibly still, an awkward silence descending on their small group, but even though Scott can see the instant regret on Tessa’s face, he doesn’t try to jump in to save her. Is this the other man’s influence? One week of dating and suddenly he’s warping her personality to match his? Joking at their friend’s expense?

“You’re right,” Suzanne finally chuckles humorlessly, her cheeks bright pink and eyes rapidly growing moist, “It was silly. Who would want my jams? They are,” She swallows loudly around the lump in her throat, “Unique. I think I see Midori’s parents over there. I’d love to wish them well. Excuse me.”

“I’ll go with you, Aunt,” Kait says with barely contained fury in her eyes, and the two of them speed-walk away, leaving the deafening silence behind them. Neither of them bothering to look back.

Tessa takes a step forward as if to go after them, but Scott subtly moves in her way - blocking her path with a shake of his head. Now is not the time to try to fix this – not until she truly grasps the gravity of what she’s done.

“I think they’re going to cut the cake now. Want to go watch, Tess?” Andrew holds his arm out and Scott waits for her to take it. To use the easy escape and saunter off back into the crowd of people who will inevitably heap more praise on her and make her forget what she’s just done, but she doesn’t.

“You go, I’ll join you in a minute. The garden is so pretty at night, I want to enjoy it a little longer.”

“Suit yourself,” Andrew shrugs and heads back into the crowd, leaving them alone.

Scott opens his mouth to say something, but Tessa moves rapidly away from him, walking down the staircase at the end of the veranda and heading towards the rose garden. It’s a blatant attempt to escape, but if she thinks she can avoid him, she’s wrong. They have to talk about this.

He follows close behind, keeping up easily since she’s in her heels and can’t move very quickly over the gravel, and he feels a pang of guilt when she wraps her arms tightly around herself. There’s a bit of a chill in the air and he wants to offer her his jacket, but… he can’t be Tessa’s Scott right now. He has to be Suzanne’s.

“Tessa,” He tries to get her attention, his voice quiet and hard, but she refuses to turn around or acknowledge him in any way, “How could you say something like that?”

“How could I help it?” She throws her arms out helplessly to the side and turns to face him like she’s pleading with him to understand, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t understand anything these days, least of all her behavior this weekend. She’s unknown to him right now, and that scares him more than anything.

“Suzanne’s your friend! She’s known you since you were in pigtails and wore mittens that were five sizes too big and made you feel better when everyone called you Big Hands!”

“I know.” She’s defensive, physically curling in on herself, but he presses on anyway. Determined to make her understand the seriousness of the situation.

"She’s never been anything but kind to us, always. Every word she’s ever said to you has been encouraging. Never, ever, in the years we’ve known her has she said a negative word about you. Even her dance criticism was always framed in a helpful way.”

“I know!”

"Then how could you humiliate her like that? In front of friends and family. Mocking her hobby, laughing at her with Andrew, and belittling her dreams and knocking her down when you should only be building her up and supporting her. She learned that from you, by the way, in case you weren’t listening. You showed her it was possible to put herself out there and rise to her potential by trying a new career path and that’s exactly what she was saying she wanted to do. I never would have though you could say something so thoughtlessly cruel.”

“Scott,” Tessa cries out desperately, “You’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s over. It’s done.”

“Yeah, _badly_ done, Tessa,” He swallows around the lump forming in his throat, tears pricking the back of his eyes, pausing before he adds, “If this is the way that you make the world better, then I don’t want to be any part of it.”

The words are devastating to his own ears even as they leave his mouth, but he knows they needed to be said. Tessa being with someone else he can learn to handle, but Tessa changing her personality, losing her kindness, to be with someone else? That he simply couldn’t bear to see.

She’s crying now, too, tears streaking down her cheeks and shimmering in the glow of all the fairy lights, and he wants to go to her so desperately. Wants to wrap her up in his arms and sooth her tears and tell her everything will be okay. But this time he’s the one that put them there, and there’s nothing he can do.

Tessa’s head drops towards the ground, shoulders heaving with her sobs, and staying in the garden with her quickly becomes unbearable. He can’t help her, but he also can’t stand here and listen to her cry, so Scott turns and practically runs back up the stairs and inside the reception hall and the right on out to his car.

He doesn’t stop to say goodbye to Alex and Midori. They’ll probably be annoyed with him for disappearing, but hopefully they’ll forget all about it during the honeymoon. There’s no way he can spend another second here – not with Andrew grinning and laughing with his friends, Suzanne quietly blinking back tears in the corner while Kait glares at everyone, and Tessa’s sobs still echoing in his ears. And there's no way he can stay in London while his emotions are in turmoil and his thoughts are such a chaotic mess. 

           

 

Scott slams the door to his apartment shut behind him and heads straight for his bedroom, dragging his duffle bag out of his closet and tossing clothes inside with an alarming lack of organization.

Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly dials his brother’s number and tucks it underneath his ear so that he can keep packing while he talks. “Charlie, it’s me. I need a favor.”

“What’s up?”

“Want to drive to Alberta with me tomorrow?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, motivation for this story has been elusive, but thank you all for sticking with me.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott takes some time in Alberta to figure out his feelings.

** crashing the net **

****

“Hey, it’s me. Um… I think this must be the tenth voicemail I’ve left for you this week. Thanks for texting me and letting me know you’re safe. I was about to drive to Ilderton and ask Alma in person where you are so I could hunt you down if you didn’t reply. I hope you’re having a good vacation and… um… I hope to hear from you soon. I miss your voice and, you know, the rest of you, too. Okay well, that’s it I guess. This is Tessa, by the way. Tessa Virtue. Not that you needed me to tell you that since you have caller I.D. I’m gonna stop now. Bye, Scott. Call me back, if you want.”

The voicemail message goes silent as it fades to the end, Tessa’s small _if you want_ still echoing in his ears, and Scott sighs as he lowers his phone, his thumb hovering over the buttons on the screen as he waffles between replaying the message, deleting it, or calling her back.

Listening to it again would just be torture. A minute long reminder of what he’s left behind (a much nicer way of saying _lost_ ). And deleting it isn’t an option. He could never willingly destroy anything Tessa sent him. And he really shouldn’t call her. He’s not ready to have a conversation with her yet – to pretend everything is normal, that his heart isn’t broken, and treat her like the friend she’s always been – but the temptation is there. Burning so hot he can feel it in his lungs, threatening to work its way out of his chest and send him running back to London.

Today is Saturday, almost a week after the disastrous wedding (well, disastrous for him. He’s only heard good things from Alex and Midori), and his mind starts to drift to what she might be up to today. He’d assumed when he made his escape to Alberta with Charlie and Jordan that she’d be too busy with work and Andrew all week to even notice his absence, and he won’t lie that the ten voicemails she’s left him, plus all the texts she’s sent, have been a real boost for his ego and self-doubt. But as much as he wants to hear her voice, he still hasn’t figured out how he fits into her life now.

Reconciling himself to only being her friend is proving to be more difficult than he’d expected, and he’d expected it to be excruciating.

He’ll do it though, because he has to. He just needs a little more time.

“Scott! Come help with the burgers!” Danny waves him over from his spot in front of the giant Napoleon Rogue 425 on the patio – an anniversary gift from his wife Tessa when they moved to Calgary. The smell of burgers and hot dogs sizzling on the grill as they cook wafts over the backyard to where Scott’s currently sitting under a tree on the rope swing he and Charlie built when they visited last summer nursing a beer, and he forces himself to get up and join his oldest brother.

"Do you think I should try adding paprika to the burgers?” Danny asks, gesturing to the spice rack on the little shelf attached to the grill, “I never have before, but Tess seems to think it would be a good idea. Apparently she read it online somewhere.”

Ignoring the pang in his chest that lances through him every time his sister-in-law’s name is mentioned, Scott shrugs and takes another sip of his beer to mask the twitch at the corner of his left eye and the way his jaw clenches, “I dunno, Dan, you’re the expert.”

He knows what this is – a thinly veiled attempt to draw him out of his gloomy shell and get him to step out from under the black clouds hanging over his head and engage in some conversation. It’s what his brothers have been trying to do every day since he, Charlie, and Jordan arrived sweaty and exhausted from their three day drive across most of Canada. But just like everything else they’ve tried, it doesn’t work.

It’s not that Scott _wants_ to be a miserable ass, it’s just that he can’t seem to shake the funk he’s fallen into. And in his defense, he thinks he has a pretty good reason.

“Toppings are ready!” Jordan waltzes through the back door with a huge tray full of lettuce, tomatoes, onions, pickles, and an assortment of condiments in her arms and begins organizing it on the picnic table, Danny’s Wife (as Scott has taken to calling her in his head out of self-preservation) following close behind with two large pitchers of lemonade. “Scott can you run in the kitchen and help Charlie with the chips?”

Scott stands there for a minute staring at the back of his sister-in-law and trying _not_ to notice how similar her silhouette is to her sister’s, before Jordan spins around, hands on her hips and mouth opening to lecture him for not moving fast enough.

His mouth goes dry as he sees the front of her dress for the first time. He’d thought it looked familiar from the back, but now that he can see the blue embroidery he recognizes it as the same off-the-shoulder dress _his_ Tessa had worn at her family’s lake house last summer when he forced her to escape the city and work for a few days and take a much-needed vacation. Standing like she is, in that dress, with her hair pulled up into a messy bun - looking at Jordan feels like looking at a ghost. She’d kill him if he ever said it out loud, but it’s like having a knock-off brand version of Tessa standing across from him. She even gets the same little downturn at the corner of her mouth like Tessa does when she’s about to scold him for something.  

Charlie bungles out onto the patio with bags of chips stacked so high he can’t see what’s in front of him and walks directly into Jordan, who starts laughing as she shoves him away and helps unload – her laughter raspy and full, just like her sister.

It knocks the wind right out of Scott’s chest.

"Uncle Scott, Uncle Scott!” Danny’s kids come running up to him, tugging on the hem of his plaid shirt and pointing toward's the rope swing in the corner of the yard that he’d just vacated, “Will you push us on the swing?”

Desperate for any excuse to escape the constant reminder of what he left behind in Ontario (and again, Jordan would kill him for saying he needs to escape _her_ , but it’s true), Scott nods and follows them – allowing his niece and nephew to cling to each hand and drag him across the grass.

“We want to go really high.”

“High enough to touch the branches!”

“Climb up there then, let’s go.” Scott gets them situated side by side, the wooden plank of the swing long enough to still accommodate both of them together, and then grabs the ropes and pulls the swing back as far as he dares before letting go – smiling his first real smile in days when both of them squeal with delight and cling onto each other and the ropes a little tighter as they laugh and shout for more.

The adults on the patio look over at the noise and Danny smiles at his kids while the other three glance at Scott before going back to whatever conversation they were having.

It wouldn’t take a genius to guess that it’s probably about him.

They’ve each taken turns trying to get him to open up about the source of his bad mood, cornering him at various times throughout the house under the guise of making sure he’s “feeling okay,” but he refuses to say anything other than that he needed to take a break from work for a few days. As nice as it might be to have someone sympathize with him and understand his heartache, it would feel like he was throwing Tessa under the bus. As disappointed as he was about the way she treated Suzanne, he knows she feels awful about it and she doesn’t deserve or need to have that mistake talked about behind her back. And as for confessing his unrequited feelings, well, he could really do without the pity that would accompany any heartfelt condolences.

          

 

“I got another text from Tessa this morning,” Jordan comments idly as she spoon feeds an indecipherable orange goo that claims to be pears, pumpkin, and passionfruit to Emmaline, deliberately ignoring the warning look Charlie shoots her from across the table around a mouthful of burger, “She was asking about you guys and the kids and how Danny’s new hours at the station are working out.”

"Oh, that’s sweet of her,” Danny’s Wife replies with a smile as she cuts hot dogs up into smaller pieces that will be easier for her picky kids to dip into ketchup, “Tell her it’s going really well. This new shift is much better.”

“She also wanted to know if I’d heard from you.” Jordan looks pointedly at Scott, her voice hardening as she quirks her head in expectation, and he narrows his eyes back at her.

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing,” Jordan rolls her eyes before spooning more food into Emmaline’s mouth, “Just like you _commanded_.”

Scott breathes a sigh of relief and picks up his hamburger again. He’s not hiding from Tess, exactly, but he’s not _not_ hiding, either. “Thanks, Jor –“

“But for the record I think this is bull-“ She looks over at the kids, “-Oney. I don’t know what you guys are fighting about, but whatever it is has her worried sick. You need to call her back before she starts putting up missing person signs all over the city.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Like hell it isn’t!” Jordan snaps, and all the attention shifts to her – the kids’ mouths dropping open in shock at her sudden anger. She purses her lips together and visibly takes a second to calm down before continuing, “My sister is miserable and I’m ninety-nine percent certain you’re the reason why. All you’ve done since Monday is mope around and act like a grump, meanwhile Tessa seems to think she’s committed some horrible, unforgivable sin. What _happened,_ Scott?”

“Stay out of it.”

“Did you tell her you lo –“ Jordan pushes, but is abruptly cut off when Charlie throws an empty hot dog bun at her, hitting her squarely in the nose, and she stops whatever she was going to say to glare at her husband, affronted.

“Food fight?” One of the kids asks hopefully, holding up a handful of chips, and Danny quickly stops his daughter with a firm shake of his head.

After a wordless conversation passes between them, Jordan turns away from Charlie and amends what she was going to say. “Did you guys have a falling out over something one of you said? Maybe something that was revealed?”

Scott’s not sure he likes the look Jordan is giving him, or her tone of voice. If he had to guess, Charlie’s been spilling some secrets to his wife. Secrets Scott told him in total confidence and will now have to find a way to punish him for revealing. “Jordan, I don’t want to talk about it. Leave me alone.”

“If you wanted to be left alone you shouldn’t have invited us to run away from Ontario with you. You should have scarpered off to some remote location somewhere where you could hide away and be miserable in peace without bringing everybody else down in the process.”

The silence is deafening around the table and not even Emmaline makes a sound, as Jordan’s words settle on top of the crowd like a wet blanket. Smothering Scott's anger and defensiveness and leaving behind nothing but resignation.

"You know what? You’re right. I’m gonna go.” He should have known that hanging out with his family would be the wrong choice in his current mood. Especially hanging out with Jordan (that’s the third thought tonight that would get him killed if she heard it aloud). Even angry and shouting at him, she still reminds him too much of Tessa.

The best thing for him would be some peace and quiet and time to reflect on his current predicament without interruption. And, to be honest, he could probably use some space by himself to wallow and grieve for what will never be before he heads back to Ontario and starts trying to move on. He was never going to get that opportunity here in this busy house surrounded by people who care too much about him to leave him alone.

“Go, Scott?” Danny’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, his forehead wrinkling as he lightly shakes his head back and forth in disbelief, “Go where?”

“Scott, that’s not what I –“ Jordan starts to interrupt, moving as if to come over to his side of the table and give him a hug or apologize, but Scott stops her with a hand in the air and firm shake of his head.

"No, you’re right. I’m not in any mood to be around people right now and I shouldn’t let my grumpiness ruin this vacation for the rest of you. I’ll go camping – head up to Banff and get away for a little while until my mood passes and I get some stuff figured out,” He turns to Danny, “Can I borrow some of your gear?”

“Of course,” His brother agrees immediately, still frowning, “But you don’t have to go.”

Except he does. He can see that now. Some time away in the mountains away from everything, including the temptation of technology and the messages on his voicemail, will be good for him. A chance to disconnect and do some soul-searching and put himself back together so that he can be the best friend possible to Tessa.

“No, I do. I need some time to think. I’ll leave first thing in the morning and be back in a few days.”

 

****

 

The problem with Banff National Park, if you can call it that considering the place is gorgeous with stunning views at every turn and a million new things to see and experience, is that it’s too crowded. For a man in desperate need of solitude, it’s certainly less than ideal to head into the most popular national park in Alberta (if not all of Canada). But it's not like he has a choice. Southern Alberta has solitude, but it's pretty damn ugly.

Thankfully, though, most of the cars turn off at Johnston Canyon or Lake Louise, leaving him free to venture into the deeper parts of the park towards Jasper and find a campground that suits his purpose, which in this case is the small one located up at Hector’s Lake.

It had been Danny’s recommendation, given that Banff doesn’t really allow free-range camping like Scott was intending to do unless you’re deep in the backcountry (a risk that seemed a little high, even to him), and when Scott sees only one other car parked at the trailhead, he’s grateful for his brother’s advice.

This is exactly the kind of solitude he was looking for.

The hike itself is relatively easy, minus having to ford the Bow River. The water is still _freezing_ this time of year and Scott’s not sure his feet will ever fully recover from that experience. But when he gets to the campground and finds only one other tent off in the distance, he knows it was worth it to come.

The process of setting up his campsite is methodical and keeps the creeping thoughts of Tessa at bay. Thinking about her might be why he’s here, but he’s not quite ready to dive into the deep end of his feelings quite yet. Instead he focuses on finding a good spot on high ground (it’s not supposed to rain, but he doesn’t want to risk waking up in a puddle), near trees that can provide both shade and protect from any wind that might rise up, and upwind from the circle of rocks serving as a fire pit. All while the twenty cans of bear spray Danny had sent him with rattle around in his backpack, reminding him to hang up his food in a tree far away before he goes to bed tonight.

He wants to go home to Ontario with less heartache, not less limbs.

It isn’t until later that night when he’s sitting in front of the crackling fire with a can of beer in his hand, watching the last rays of sunlight fade over the icy blue lake, that he allows himself to start examining the reasons why he’s here.

_Tessa._

Or rather, Tessa and her new relationship and the new lines she’s drawn between herself and Scott and the massive overhaul he’s going to have to do to the way he thinks about her and their future.

If they even have a future.

Of course they’ll always be friends. He’s determined for that to stay true about them, no matter what happens. And not being her business partner is out of the question. They work well together – always have – and he doesn’t want any other job.

But as for the future he’d been imagining for them – the one where she wears a white dress and he promises to love her forever and maybe they have a kid or two or three – he’s going to have to let go of that. Relegate it to the recesses of his mind. Packed away in a box labeled “Not Meant to Be” and be okay with that no longer being in the cards for them (if it ever was).

Only it’s really fucking hard to be okay with that. Harder than he wants it to be.

The thought has him shooting out of his chair. Well, not shooting exactly given that it’s a camp chair that sinks in and actually requires a bit of effort to vacate, but has him standing up _quickly_ and marching down towards the water. If he were a stupider man he’d dive in and let the cold water clear his head and heart of all his thoughts, but given that it’s probably barely above freezing and he’s all alone out here (the other camper has yet to show himself), that probably wouldn’t be the best idea. However tempting it might be.

The fact is, he’s just not ready to let go of loving Tessa.

He loves her laugh, her smile, how kind and generous she is, the way she cares so much about everyone around her – even if her plans to make their lives better sometimes go awry, the way she teases him and never lets him get away with his mischief for too long, how it feels to dance with her. He could talk for hours about all the reasons he loves her, and it still wouldn’t be enough to cover the scope of his feelings.

How can he just… let all of that go? How does a person stop loving another person? Especially when that person has been their everything for so many years.  

Scott looks up to the stars, as if by some miracle they can show him the answer he seeks, but there’s no great epiphany to be found up there in the constellations. No rolling clouds with the voice of Mufasa giving him the words of advice that would help him figure out his path. Just dots of light in a blanket of darkness, accompanied by the chattering of crickets and the gentle sound of the waves lapping up against the rocky shoreline.

Wiping away the renegade tear that is currently making its way down his left cheek, Scott turns and heads back towards camp to put out the fire and get ready for bed.

He’s worn out from hiking and setting up the camp and he’s definitely not going to find his answer tonight. He’ll just have to try to work it all out tomorrow.

 

 

He doesn’t get any closer to falling out of love with her tomorrow, though, even though he spends the whole day hiking around the lake and trying to list all of the things he _doesn’t_ like about her.

(Even the things he doesn’t like are things he likes, like the fact that she can be so infuriatingly stubborn – which is why their careers have been so successful.)

 

 

He doesn’t get any closer to falling out of love with her the day after that, when he does risk taking a swim in the middle of the day when the water is slightly less likely to kill him and spends the rest of the afternoon trying to warm himself back up. The water having so successfully cleared his head that he can neither think of loving nor _not_ loving Tessa.

 

 

And he’s no closer to falling out of love with her on his last morning at the camp, the tent and equipment all packed away and ready for the hike back down to the car, as he annoys the ducks by skipping rocks across the surface of the lake.

There’s got to be a self-help guidebook for this. Some sort of twelve step program for falling out of love with your best friend. Surely he can’t be the only man in the history of the world to have a beautiful, amazing, yet unobtainable best friend who he needs to learn to get over and accept nothing romantic will ever happen with? Wasn’t that the plot of that Dickens novel – a story about two cities or something?

Although now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure the friend with unrequited feelings for the woman died at the end of that story, so maybe he should find a better example.

Maybe solitude wasn’t the answer. Maybe he needs a good library and a reference guide and weekly AA meetings.

 _Hi, my name is Scott Moir, and it’s been two hours since I last thought about kissing Tessa Virtue_.

Scott snorts at his own joke, tossing another rock and watching with satisfaction as it skips six times over the lake before sinking beneath the surface, then grimaces. Now he’s got himself thinking about kissing Tessa again and fuck him if he’s ever going to make it past step one on the road to recovery at this rate.

“Hey buddy,” A voice calls out from behind him, scaring him so badly that Scott actually physically jumps at the sound, “You dropped this.”

Spinning around as he tries to calm his racing heart, Scott sees the mysterious other camper walking towards him – hand outstretched – with all of his own gear strapped to his back like he’s heading out, too.

The gruff looking older man hands him his phone and as he does the screen lights up for a brief second, showing the background picture of him and Tess from the Blue Jays game they went to a few months ago – both of them grinning and squinting against the sun. It’s one of his favorite pictures of them, and it makes Scott smile even as he realizes they probably won’t have many more opportunities for outings like that now that she’s dating someone else.

“Thanks, man,” Scott says with an appreciative nod, “I didn’t even realize I’d lost it.”

“She’s a pretty girl you got there,” The man replies, gesturing towards the phone, “Your wife?”

Jesus Christ he really can’t escape her this week.  

“Um… thanks, but no, she’s just a friend.” He says the words like they aren’t the very daggers that have been stabbing him repeatedly for a week and a half, and attempts to smile back when the man grins at him.

“Well, she looks real special. I hope you always treat her like she is.”

It might not be words of advice from a big glowing cloud in the sky like in _Lion King_ , but Scott supposes the man does have a point. Whatever their relationship may be, the crux of it all is that he needs to treat her like the amazing woman that she _is,_ not punish her for who he wishes she could be. It’s not her fault that she isn’t in love with him, and when he gets back to Ontario he can’t take his heartbreak out on her – he has to be strong and kind and supportive. Just like Tessa needs and deserves him to be.   

“I… I try. Are you heading back down the mountain, too?”

“Nah,” The man shakes his head and points towards the mostly overgrown trail leading the opposite direction, “Onwards and upwards. I only stopped here for a few days because the fishing on the Bow is good, but I’m continuing on deeper into the backcountry.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah. My wife was supposed to be with me, but she passed away from cancer a few months ago. I promised her I’d still make the trip, so here I am.”

“I’m sorry to hear that," Scott says softly, and the man smiles dolefully back at him.

“Thank you. We gotta keep the promises we make to the people we love, eh? Even if it's a little crazy or hard to do.”

Well, he can't argue with that. 

“Good luck on your hike, and stay safe out there. Oh - here,” Scott digs around in the backpack at his feet for a moment, pulling out as many cans of bear spray as he can possibly hold in his hands all at once, “You need these more than I do.”

The man throws his head back and laughs before accepting the cans with a grin, still chortling as he puts them away in his own pack. “Thank you. I don’t think the grizzlies will appreciate it, but I sure do.”

“Have a nice trip!”

“Thank you." The man turns to go, then stops and looks back over his shoulder for a moment, "Son? When you get down off this mountain you call that girl and tell her she’s special for me, alright?”

“I will,” Scott promises with a nod, surprised to find that he means it. He’s not quite ready to go back home yet, but he is ready to rejoin civilization and at least give Tessa a call and let her know he’s okay. He can’t keep ignoring her forever.

 

 

When he gets back to his car Scott shoves all the gear into the trunk before pulling his phone back out of his pocket. He only gets one bar of service up here in the dusty parking lot, but it’s enough for notifications to start piling in.

He intends to text Danny and Charlie and let them know that he’s on his way back home, but his thumb accidentally taps the newest notification that drops down from the top of the screen and sends him into the Instagram app by mistake. Scott moves to immediately exit out of it, but the picture at the top of the page catches his eye.

It’s Kait’s account and the picture is of Andrew’s arms around Kait from behind, her hand resting over his with her engagement ring prominently displayed. 

“No fucking way!” Scott shouts, disturbing the squirrels that were scrounging around in the nearby bushes and sending them running.

He can’t believe it. How could… after all… and just… what the hell!?

He’d been right! There really _was_ something going on between Andrew and Kait this whole time! Ha! He fucking _knew_ it!

Scott’s triumph is short-lived, however, when the reality of the situation comes crashing back down on him.

This means that for all these months while Andrew was flirting and teasing and kissing Tessa, he was secretly dating Kait as well. Dating Tessa’s friend (okay, that might be a stretch, but kind of!) and coworker behind her back while going to Midori’s wedding with her and being all lovey-dovey.

For fuck’s sake – Scott saw the man kiss Tessa with his own two eyes only two weeks ago!

Suddenly everything he’s been thinking, all the decisions he’s been trying to make up here in the mountains and the battle he's been waging with his emotions, fly out the window in the face of the pain Tessa must be feeling right now. Not only is her heart probably broken, but Andrew had been cheating on her the whole time. Or been cheating on Kait _with_ her. Either way Tessa’s situation is a thousand times shittier than his own, and Scott has to be with her.

After all, he promised to be her best friend years ago, and that means being there when she needs him. Even if it's hard. 

Scott throws everything else pell-mell into the car and slams the doors shut before speeding down the highway as fast as he feels comfortable driving. If he leaves today he can be back in London by Friday night.  

Back with Tessa where he belongs.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A word about The Beauty of Truth:
> 
> First, I apologize for taking forever-and-a-half to get this chapter up. I got distracted first by my other story, and then by... well... *gestures vaguely* you know - all of that stuff that's happened. 
> 
> Originally I was going to cover every chapter of Mischief until the end, but I don't feel like I can commit to that anymore. As such, I'm going to mark this story as completed now. The last two chapters of Mischief cover what happens next in Scott and Tessa's story here.  
> Someday I still hope to write those two chapters from Scott's POV, and if so I will come back here and put the chapter count back to 15, but right now I think what's fairest for everyone is to mark this as the end so that nobody is holding onto false hope. 
> 
> I love you guys. Thank you for coming along with me on Mischief Scott's journey. You're all the best. 
> 
> XOXO, 
> 
> Daisy

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all of you who read EKOM and enjoyed it. I appreciate each and every one of you! I hope you all like taking another look at the story from Scott's POV. <3
> 
> To the Writer's Guild: ladies, you light up my life with your friendship, humor, and support. I love you all so much.
> 
> Xoxo,  
> Daisy


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